It sold at least 3.5 million copies and remained on theNew York Timesbestseller list for more than two years.
She’s later sent to a penal colony in Australia.
This part of London was like no place Evangeline had ever seen.
The air, dense with coal smoke, reeked of horse manure and rotting vegetables.
Evangeline squinted, trying to make out what they had in their hands.
Even a few hours ago she might’ve felt pity; now she only felt numb.
“There she is, one of the constables said, gesturing out the window.
The Stone Jug.”
Evangeline leaned forward, craning her neck.
Your new home."
In tawdry penny circulars she’d read stories about the dangerous criminals locked up in Newgate.
Now here it was, a block-long fortress squatting in the shadow of St. Paul’s Cathedral.
As they drew closer Evangeline saw that the windows facing the street were strangely blank.
A small crowd, idling near the entrance, swarmed the carriage.
Misery mongers, said the constable with the droopy moustache.
The show never gets old."
The three constables filed out of the carriage, barking at the crowd to stand back.
Evangeline crouched in the cramped compartment until one of them gestured impatiently.
She hobbled to the lip of the door and he tugged at her shoulder.
Her cheeks burned with shame.
Large-eyed children and sour-faced adults stared as she found her footing.
What a disgrace, a woman spat.
God have mercy on your soul."
A constable pushed Evangeline toward the iron gates, where their small group was met by two guards.
*
The gate clanged shut.
She heard a muffled noise, like cats mewling in a bag, and cocked her head.
The rest of the harlots, a guard told her.
You’ll be with em soon enough."
Only the prisoner and two of ye."
She moved slowly in the leg irons; the guard kept prodding her in the back with a baton.
The turnkey came to a stop in front of a wooden door with two locks.
“Beg your pardon, Matron.
Then, faintly, Give me a moment.”
The men leaned against a wall, talking among themselves.
Evangeline stood uncertainly in her chains in the middle of the room.
Her underarms were damp, and the irons chafed her ankles.
Her stomach rumbled; she hadn’t eaten since morning.
After some time, the door opened.
The matron had clearly been woken up.
Her angular face was heavily lined, her graying hair pulled back in a messy bun.
She wore a faded black dress.
Let’s get on with it, she said irritably.
Has the prisoner been searched?
“No, ma’am, the guard said.
She waved toward him.
She pinked with embarrassment.
Opening a large ledger filled with lines of tiny script, she said, Name.”
“Evangel”
“Not you, the matron said, without looking up.
You have forfeited your right to speak.”
Evangeline bit her lip.
The constable extracted a piece of paper from the inner pocket of his waistcoat and peered at it.
She dipped her quill into a pot of ink and scratched on the ledger.
She’ll be twenty-two.
“She will be, or she is?”
“Born in the month of August, it says here.
The matron looked up sharply, her pen poised over the paper.
Speak precisely, constable, or we’ll be here all night.
In as few words as possible.”
He cleared his throat.
Well, ma’am, there’s more than one.
“Start with the most egregious.”
she’s an accused felon.
Of the worst kind."
The matron raised a brow at Evangeline.
“I didn’t she started.
The matron held out the flat of her hand.
Then she looked down, writing in the ledger.
Of whom, constable.”
“A chambermaid employed by .
aah he searched the paper a Ronald Whitstone, address 22 Blenheim Road, St. John’s Wood.”
“By what method.”
“Miss Stokes pushed her down the stairs.
“Seems to be.
Shaken, but essentially .
all right, I suppose.”
“And what else?”
“An heirloom belonging to the owner of the house was found in Miss Stokes’s room.”
“What kind of heirloom?”
With a valuable gemstone.
“It was given to me, Evangeline blurted.
The matron put down her quill.
You have been reprimanded twice.”
“I’m sorry.
But "
“You will not say one more word unless addressed directly.
Is that clear?”
The panic and worry that kept her vigilant all day had given way to an enervating torpor.
She wondered, almost abstractly, if she might faint.
Merciful darkness must be better than this.
“Assault and theft, the matron said to the constable, her hand on the page.
Those are the accusations?”
“Yes, ma’am.
And she is also .
“I see.”
“Out of wedlock, ma’am.”
“I understood your implication, constable.
“So the charges are attempted murder and larceny.”
I’ll escort the prisoner to the cells.”
Once the men had filed out, the matron inclined her head toward Evangeline.
Long day for you, I suppose.
I’m sorry to tell you it will not improve.”
Evangeline felt a rush of gratitude.
It was the closest thing to kindness she’d experienced all day.
With her hands shackled, she couldn’t wipe them away.
For a few moments her strangled sobs were the only sound in the room.
“I need to take you down, the matron said finally.
“It wasn’t like he said.
I I didn’t "
“You are wasting your breath.
My opinion is irrelevant.
“But I hate for you to .
to think ill of me.”
The matron gave a dry laugh.
Oh, my girl.
You are new to this.”
Setting down the quill and closing the ledger, the matron asked, Was it force?”
Evangeline asked, uncomprehending.
Did a man force himself on you?”
“It was love then, was it?
Sighing, the matron shook her head.
You’re learning the hard way, Miss Stokes, that there’s no man you could count on.
The sooner you understand that, the better off you’ll be.”
From THE EXILES by Christina Baker Kline Copyright 2020 by Christina Baker Kline.
Reprinted by permission of Custom House, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
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