Dulcibel: A Tale of Old Salem

by Henry Peterson

  CHAPTER XXI.

  A Night Interview.

  A few days passed and Master Raymond was back again; with a pleasantword and smile for all he met, as he rode through the village. MistressAnn Putnam herself met him on the street and he pulled up his horse atthe side-path as she stopped, and greeted her.

  "So you have been to Boston?" she said.

  "Yes, I thought I would take a little turn and hear what was going on upthere."

  "Who did you see--any of our people?"

  "Oh, yes--the Nortons and the Mathers and the Higginsons and theSewalls--I don't know all.

  "Good day; remember me to my kind brother Joseph and his wife," saidshe, and Raymond rode on.

  "What did that crafty creature wish to find out by stopping me?" hethought to himself.

  "He did not mention Captain Alden. Yes, he went to consult him," thoughtMistress Putnam.

  Master Joseph Putnam was so anxious to meet his friend, that he wasstanding at the turning in the lane that led up to his house.

  "Well, what did the Captain say?"

  "He was astounded. Then he gave utterance to some emphatic expressionsabout hell-fire and damnation which he had probably heard in church."

  "I know no more appropriate occasion to use them," commented youngMaster Joseph drily. "If it were not for certain portions of the psalmsand the prophets, I could hardly get through the time comfortablynowadays."

  "If we can get her safely to Boston, he will see that a fast vessel isready to take us to New York; and he will further see that his ownvessel--the Colony's rather, which he commands--never catches us."

  "That looks well. I managed to see Dulcibel for a few minutes to-day,and"--

  "How is she?" inquired Raymond eagerly. "Does she suffer much?"

  "Not very much I think. No more than is necessary to save appearances.She told me that the jailer was devoted to her. He will meet youto-night after dark on the hill, to arrange matters."

  "Say that we get from the prison by midnight. Then it will take at leastthree hours riding to reach Boston--though we shall not enter thetown."

  "Three hours! Yes, four," commented his friend; "or even five if thenight be dark and stormy; and such a night has manifest advantages.Still, as I suppose you must wait for a northwest wind, that is prettysure to be a clear one."

  "Yes, the main thing is to get out into the open sea. Captain Aldenplans to procure a Danish vessel, whose skipper once out of sight ofland, will oppose any recapture by force."

  "I suppose however you will sail for New York?"

  "Yes, that is the nearest port and we shall be perfectly safe there.Still Jamestown would do. The Delaware is nearer than the James, but Iam afraid the Quakers would not be able to protect us, as they are toogood to oppose force by force."

  "Too good! too cranky!" said Master Putnam. "A pretty world the rascalswould make of it, if the honest men were too good to fight. It seems tome there is something absolutely wicked in their non-resistant notions."

  "Yes, it is no worse to kill a two-legged tiger or wolf than afour-legged one; one has just as good a right to live as the other."

  "A better, I think," replied Master Putnam. "The tiger or wolf isfollowing out his proper nature; the human tiger or wolf is violatinghis."

  "You know I rather like the Quakers," rejoined Master Raymond. "I liketheir general idea of considering the vital spirit of the Scripture morethan the mere outward letter. But in this case, it seems to me, they arein bondage to the mere letter 'thou shalt not kill;' not seeing that tokill, in many cases, is really to save, not only life, but all thatmakes life valuable."

  That evening just about dusk, the two young men mounted their horses,and rode down one of the roads that led to Salem town, leaving Salemvillage on the right--thinking best not to pass through the village.Within a mile or so of the town, Master Putnam said, "here is the place"and led the way into a bridle path that ran into the woods. In aboutfive minutes he halted again, gave a low whistle, and a voice said, ashort distance from them, "Who are you, strangers?"

  "Friends in need," replied Master Putnam.

  "Then ye are friends indeed," said the voice; and Robert Foster, thejailer, stepped from behind the trunk of a tree into the path.

  "Well, Robie, how's the little girl?" said Master Joseph.

  "Bonnie as could be expected," was the answer.

  "She sends word to you, sir," addressing Master Raymond, "that you hadbetter not come to see her. She knows well all you could say--just aswell as if she heard it, the brave, bonnie lassie!"

  "I know it," replied Master Raymond. "Tell her I think of her everymoment--and that things look bright."

  "Let us get out of this glooming, and where we can see a rod around us,"suggested the jailer. "I like to see at least as far as my elbow, when Iam talking confidentially."

  "I will go--you stay here with the horses," said Raymond to MasterPutnam. "I do not want you mixed up with this thing any more than isabsolutely necessary."

  "Oh, I do not care for the risk--I like it," replied his friend.

  "Stay, nevertheless," insisted Master Raymond. And getting down from hishorse, and handing the bridle rein to Master Putnam, he followed thejailer out into an open space, where the rocks coming to the surface,had prevented the growth of the forest. Here it was a little lighterthan it had been in the wood-path; but, the clouds having gathered overthe sky since they started, it was not possible to see very far aroundthem.

  "Hold up there!" cried Robie, catching Raymond by the arm--"why, man,do you mean to walk straight over the cliff?"

  "I did not know any chasm was there," said Raymond. "I never saw thisplace before. Master Putnam said it was a spot where we should not belikely to be molested. And it does look desolate enough." He leaned backagainst one of two upright planks which seemed to have been placed therefor some purpose, and looked at a little pile of dirt and stones not farfrom his feet.

  "No," said the jailer. "I opine we shall not be disturbed here. I do notbelieve there is more than three persons in Salem that would be willingto come to this hill at this time of day,--and they are here already."And the jailer smiled audibly.

  "Why, how is that?"

  "Because they are all so damnably sooperstitious!" replied Robie, withan air of vast superiority.

  "Ah! is this place then said to be haunted?"

  "Yes,--poor Goodwife Bishop's speerit is said to haunt it. But as shenever did anybody any harm while she was living, I see not why sheshould harm any one now that she is dead."

  "And so brave Bridget was executed near this place? Where was the foulmurder done?"

  "You are leaning against the gallows," said Robie quietly. "And thatpile of stones at your feet is over her grave."

  Raymond was a brave man, physically and morally, and not at allsuperstitious; but he recoiled involuntarily from the plank againstwhich he had been leaning, and no longer allowed his right foot to restupon the top stones of the little heap that marked the grave.

  "Oh, I thought you knew it," said the jailer calmly. "I say, let themfear goodwife Bishop's ghost who did her wrong. As for me, I favored herall I dared; and her last word to me was a blessing. But now for yourhonor's business, I have not long to stay."

  "I have planned all but the getting out of jail. Can it be easily done?"

  "As easy as walking out of a room."

  "Will you not be suspected?"

  "Not at all, I think--they are so mightily sooperstitious. I shall lockeverything tight after her; and make up a good story about my wakeningup in the middle of the night, just in time to see her flying out of thetop o' the house, on her black mare, and thrashing the animal with abroom-handle. The bigger the lie the quicker they will believe it."

  "If they should suspect you, let Master Putnam know, and he will get youoff, if wit and money together can do it."

  "Oh, I believe that," said the jailer. "Master Putnam is well known inall these parts, as a man that never deserts a friend; and I'll warrantyou are one o
f the same grit."

  "My hand on it, Robie!" and he shook the jailer's hand warmly. "I shallnever forget this service."

  "I am a rough, ignorant man," replied Robie quietly; "but I know gentleblood when I see it."

  "What time of night will suit you best?"

  "Just about twelve o'clock at night. That is the time all the ghosts andgoblins and weetches choose; and when all honest people are in theirbeds, and in their first and soundest sleep."

  "We shall not be able to give you much warning, for we must wait afavorable wind and tide."

  "So you let me know by nightfall, it will do."

  "And now for the last point--what do I pay you? I know we are asking youto run a great risk. The men that whip gentlewomen, at the cart's tail,and put little children into jail, and sell them as slaves, will notspare you, if they find out what you have done. Thank God, I am richenough to pay you well for taking such a fearful risk and shall be onlytoo glad to reward your unselfish deed."

  "Not a shilling!" replied Robie proudly. "I am not doing this thing forpay. It is for the old Captain's little girl, that I have held in thesearms many a day--and for the old Captain himself. While these bloodylandsmen," continued the old sailor, "plague and persecute each other,Master Raymond, what is that to us, we men of the sea, who have a creedand a belief of our own, and who never even think of hurting a woman ora child? But as for these landsmen, sticking at home all the time, howcan they be expected to know anything--compared to men that have doubledboth Capes, and seen people living all sorts of ways, and believing allsorts of things? No, no," and Robie laughed disdainfully, "let theseland-lubbers attend to their own affairs; but let them keep their handsoff us seamen and our families."

  "So be it then, Robie; I honor your feelings! But nevertheless I shallnot forget you. And one of these days, if we get off safely, you shallhear from me again about this matter."

  And then, their plans settled, Robie trudged down to the town; while theyoung men rode back the way they had come, to Master Putnam's.