"Would you require cash?" Browning asked. "Or would goods be sufficient?"

"If they are easily transported goods-horses, jewelry, furs- yes, we would take them for market value."

Dobbs nodded, a slow smile creasing his broad face. He could absolutely manage that. Most could. It was not a small amount- one could purchase three good horses for as much. But at least half of the families would be able to get by and there were enough wealthier folks in town to lend the rest. That would be important, he realized. He could imagine the rancor it would bring to Chestnut Hill if there were parents unable to afford the fee. Best to lend it to them, at a reasonable rate.

"We could manage it," Browning said. "For all seven."

"But we'd need the children back first," Doc Adams cut in. "What you're offering is, as you said, a miracle, and those are few and far between. We cannot simply trust you can do as you claim."

A kernel of panic exploded in Browning's gut. He wanted to shush the doctor. Tell him not to insult this man, who was offering a dream come true, lest he take that dream and vanish whence he came.

As soon as he thought it, though, he was shamed. Was this not what Preacher had warned of, when he said the men were coming? They'll want to prey on our tragedy, Mayor.They'll offer us impossible things for our hard-earned cash, and I fear the village folks are too grief-stricken to think straight.

Browning had agreed wholeheartedly . . . when he thought the men might only be selling some elixir of youth or happiness. Instead, they offered something even more unbelievable, and here he was, ready to leap on it without a shred of proof. "The doctor is right," Browning said. "We'll need the children resurrected before we pay the full cost. We can arrange something, of course-a contract or such."

Eleazar smiled. "I doubt any court would recognize a contract to raise the dead, but yes, of course I do not expect you to pay us without the children. In fact, I do not expect you to even agree to pay us without proof. That is why I will resurrect one child first, free of any charge. In demonstration." He turned to Browning. "You said you had a son newly pa.s.sed?"

Browning's heart pounded so hard he could barely force a nod.

"May I ask his age?"

"He just pa.s.sed his thirteenth birthday."

"A boy on the cusp of becoming a man. I am particularly sorry for your loss then. I know the disease usually affects only the very young and the very old."

"He was the eldest of the victims," Doc Adams said. "He'd suffered a cold this summer-a serious one that affected his lungs. While he seemed quite recovered, I believe it must have made him vulnerable."

"Indeed." Eleazar glanced at the old man, Rene. "Then with my a.s.sistant's aid and the mayor's approval, I will return this boy to life."

"When?" Browning blurted.

Eleazar smiled, indulgent. "He will be back in time for your wife to serve him dinner." The smile faded, his gaze growing troubled. "There is, however, one other-"

Eleazar stopped, looking sharply toward the door at the back of the room.

"Sir?" Doc Adams said.

"I thought I heard something. Is anyone back there?"

Browning shook his head. "My wife left that way before we began.The room was empty."

"So there is a door?" Eleazar rose and walked to it, swinging it open fast and peering in as the others scrambled to their feet.

As Eleazar strode through, Browning hurried after him. He found the man in the back room, looking about. Browning could see into the kitchen, where the rear door was closing.

Someone had been there. Eleazar hadn't noticed it, though, and Browning didn't point it out. Browning was not about to do anything to upset him. Not after what he'd just said about . . .

Charlie.

Browning's gaze swung to the coffin, the largest in the room, two chairs placed in front of it, where he and his wife had spent the night.

His wife. Dorothy. What would she say? Her heart might break with joy.

Eleazar strode over, scattering Browning's thoughts.

"There's no sign anyone was here," Browning said. "Perhaps mice? Or c.o.o.ns in the eaves."

"I'm sure it was nothing," Eleazar said. "I'm a touch anxious about what I have to say next. My fears likely got the best of me."

"What you have to say?" Browning paused. "Yes, you were saying there was something else." His heart thudded anew. No, please, nothing else. Nothing that would stop this man from bringing Charlie back.

Eleazar was walking again, moving to Charlie's coffin.

"Is this him, then?" he asked. "Your boy?"