“It is hard for a man to believe his wife to be in covenant with the devil,” Samuel said. “But this evidence, combined with the testimony of several of the afflicted girls who stated that Elizabeth’s specter tormented them, is compelling proof. I am sorry, dear friend, but Elizabeth is a witch.”
“I am sorely distressed,” Ronald said.
Samuel and Cotton Mather exchanged knowing, sympathetic glances. Samuel motioned toward the stairs.
“Perhaps we should repair to the parlor,” Reverend Mather said. “I believe we all could use a mug of ale.”
After they were seated and had a chance to take some refreshment, Reverend Mather spoke: “It is trying times for us all. But we must all participate. Now that we knoweth the devil has chosen Salem, we must with God’s help seek and banish the devil’s servants and their familiars from our midst, yet in like purpose protect the innocent and pious, whom surely the devil doth despise.”
“I am sorry,” Ronald said. “I can be of no help. I am distracted and weary. I still cannot believe Elizabeth to be a witch. I need time. Surely there is some way to secure a reprieve for her even if it lasts but a month.”
“Only Governor Phips can grant a reprieve,” Samuel said. “But a petition would be in vain. He would only grant a reprieve if there were a compelling reason.”
A silence descended over the three men. Sounds of the city drifted in through the open window.
“Perhaps I could make a case for a reprieve,” Reverend Mather said suddenly.
Ronald’s face brightened with a ray of hope. Samuel appeared confused.
“I believe I could justify a reprieve to the Governor,” Reverend Mather said. “But it would rest on one condition: Elizabeth’s full cooperation. She’d have to agree to turn her back on her Prince of Darkness.”
“I can assure her cooperation,” Ronald said. “What would you have her do?”
“First she must confess in front of the congregation in the Salem meeting house,” Reverend Mather said. “In her confession she must forswear her relations with the devil. Secondly she must reveal the identities of those persons in the community who have signed similar diabolic covenants. This would be a great service. The fact that the torment of the afflicted women continues unabated is proof that the devil’s servants are still at large in Salem.”
Ronald leaped to his feet. “I will get her to agree this very afternoon,” he said excitedly. “I beg you to see Governor Phips immediately.”
“I will wait on word from Elizabeth,” Reverend Mather said. “I should not like to trouble his excellency without confirmation of the conditions.”
“And you shall have her word,” Ronald said. “By the morn at the very latest.”
“Godspeed,” Reverend Mather said.
Samuel had difficulty keeping pace with Ronald as they hurried back to Samuel’s carriage in front of the Old North Church.
“You can save nearly an hour on your journey by taking the ferry to Noddle Island,” Samuel said as they drove across town to fetch Ronald’s horse.
“Then I shall go by ferry,” Ronald said.
True to Samuel’s word Ronald’s trip back to Salem was far quicker than the trip to Boston. It was just after midafternoon when he turned onto Prison Lane and reined in his horse in front of the Salem jail. He’d pushed the animal mercilessly. Foam bubbled from the exhausted animal’s nostrils.
Ronald was equally as wearied and caked with dust. Vertical lines from rivulets of perspiration crossed his brow. He was also emotionally drained, famished, and thirsty. But he was oblivious to his own needs. The ray of hope Cotton Mather had provided for Elizabeth drove him on.
Dashing into the jailer’s office, he was frustrated to find it empty. He pounded on the oak door leading to the cells. Presently the door was opened a crack, and William Doun-ton’s puffy face peered out at him.
“I’m to see my wife,” Ronald said breathlessly.
“~’Tis feeding time,” William said. “Come back in an hour.”
Using his foot, Ronald crashed the door open against its hinges, sending William staggering back. Some of the thin gruel he was carrying sloshed out of its bucket.