by Howard Pyle
“Your ladyship is as quick-witted in this as in everything else.”
“Well, which is it?”
“Love.”
“Ah — who?”
“Mistress Dulcibel Burton.”
“What! — not the girl with the snake-mark?”
Raymond bowed his head very low in answer.
Lady Mary laughed. “She is a witch then, it seems; for she has bewitched you.”
“We were betrothed to each other only a few days before that absurd and lying charge was made against her.”
“And her horse — her black mare — that upset the Reverend Master Parris into the duck pond; and then went up into the clouds; and, as Master Cotton Mather solemnly assured me, has never been seen or heard of since — what of it — where is it, really?”
“In an out-of-the-way place, up in Master Joseph Putnam’s woods,” replied the young man smiling.
“And you are certain of it?”
“As certain as riding the mare for about ten miles will warrant.”
“Master Mather assured me that no man — except perhaps Satan or one of his imps — could ride her.”
“Then I must be Satan or one of his imps, I suppose.”
“How did you manage it?”
“I put a side-saddle on the beast; and a woman’s skirt on myself.”
The lady laughed outright. “Oh, that is too good! It reminds me of what Sir William often says, ‘Anything can be done, if you know how to do it!’ I must tell it to him he will enjoy it so much. And it will be a good thing to plague Master Mather with.”
“Please do not tell anyone just now,” protested the young man earnestly. “It may bring my good friend, Joseph Putnam, into trouble. And it would only make them all angrier than they are with Dulcibel.”
“Dulcibel — that is a strange name. It is Italian — is it not.”
“I judge so. It is a family name. I suppose there is Italian blood in the family. At least Mistress Dulcibel looks it.”
“She does. She is very beautiful — of a kind of strange, fascinating beauty. I do not wonder she bewitched you. Was that serpent mark too from Italy?”
“I think it very likely.”
“Perhaps she is descended from Cleopatra — and that is the mark left by the serpent on the famous queen’s breast.”
“I think it exceedingly probable,” said Master Raymond. My readers will have observed before this, that he was an exceedingly polite and politic young man.
“Well, and so you want me to get Mistress Dulcibel, this witch descendant of that famous old witch, Cleopatra, out of prison?”
“I hoped that, from the well-known kindness of heart of your ladyship, you would be able to do something for us.”
“You see the difficulty is simply here. I know that all these charges of witchcraft against such good, nice people as Captain Alden, Master and Mistress English, your betrothed Dulcibel, and a hundred others, are mere bigotry and superstition at the best, and sheer spite and maliciousness at the worst — but what can I do? Sir William owes his position to the Reverend Increase Mather — and, besides, not being a greatly learned man himself, is more impressed than he ought to be by the learning of the ministers and the lawyers. I tell him that a learned fool is the greatest fool alive; but still he is much puzzled. If he does not conform to the wishes of the ministers and the judges, who are able to lead the great majority of the people in any direction they choose, he will lose his position as Governor. Now, while this is not so much in itself, it will be a bar to his future advancement — for preferment does not often seek the men who fail, even when they fail from having superior wisdom and nobleness to the multitude.”
It was evident that Sir William and Lady Mary had talked over this witchcraft matter, and its bearing upon his position, a good many times. And Master Raymond saw very clearly the difficulties of the case.
“And still, if the robe of the Governor can only continue to be worn by dyeing it with innocent blood, I think that a man of the natural greatness and nobility of Sir William, would not hesitate as to his decision.”
“But a new Governor in his place might do worse.”
“Yes, he might easily do that.”
“When it comes to taking more lives by his order, then he will decide upon his course. So far he is temporizing,” said the lady.
“And Dulcibel?”
“She is not suffering,” was the reply. “Oh, if I only could say the same of the poor old women, and poor young women, now lying in those cold and loathsome cells — innocent of any crime whatever either against God or against man — I should not feel it all here so heavily,” and Lady Mary pressed her hand against her heart. “But we are not responsible for it! I have taken off every chain — and do all I dare; while Sir William shuts his eyes to my unlawful doings.”
“Will you aid her to escape, should her life be in danger? You told me to speak out frankly and to the point.”
The lady hesitated only for a moment. “I will do all I can — even to putting my own life in peril. When something must be done, come to me again. And now judge me and Sir William kindly; knowing that we are not despots, but compelled to rule somewhat in accordance with the desires of those whom we have been sent here to govern.”
Lady Mary extended her hand; the young man took it, as he might have taken the hand of his sovereign Queen, and pressed it with his lips. Then he bowed himself out of the boudoir.
CHAPTER XLI.
Master Raymond is Arrested for Witchcraft.
As Master Raymond walked up the street toward the Red Lion, he felt in better spirits. He had secured the aid, if things should come to the worst of a very influential friend — and one who, woman-like, would be apt to go even farther than her word, as noble spirits in such cases are apt to do. Therefore he was comparatively light-hearted.
Suddenly he felt a strong grasp upon his shoulder; and turning, he saw a couple of men beside him. One he knew well as deputy-marshall Herrick, of Salem.
“You are wanted at Salem, Master Raymond,” said Marshall Herrick gravely, producing a paper.
Raymond felt a sinking of heart as he glanced over it — it was the warrant for his arrest, issued by Squire Hathorne.
“At whose complaint?” he asked, controlling his emotions, and speaking quite calmly and pleasantly.
“At the complaint of Mistress Ann Putnam and Master Jethro Sands,” replied the officer.
“Of witchcraft? That is very curious. For as Dr. Griggs knows, just before I left Salem Farms, I was suffering from ‘an evil hand’ myself.”
“Indeed!” said the officer.
“When am I to go?”
“Immediately. We have provided a horse for you.”
“I should like to get my valise, and some clothes from the Red Lion.”
The officer hesitated.
Master Raymond smiled pleasantly. “You must be hungry about this time of day, and they have some of the best wine at the Lion I ever tasted. You shall drink a bottle or two with me. You know that a man travels all the better for a good dinner and a bottle of good wine.”
The officers hesitated no longer. “You are a sensible man, Master Raymond, whether you are a witch or not,” said the deputy marshall.
“I think if the wine were better and plentier around Salem, there would be fewer witches,” rejoined Master Raymond; which the other officer considered a very witty remark, judging by the way he laughed at it.
The result of this strategic movement of Master Raymond’s, was that he had a couple of very pleasant and good-humored officials to attend him all the way to Salem jail, where they arrived in the course of the evening. Proving that thus by the aid of a little metaphorical oil and sugar, even official machinery could be made to work a good deal smoother than it otherwise would. While the officers themselves expressed their utter disbelief to the people they met, of the truth of the charges that had been brought against Master Raymond; who in truth was himself “an afflicted person,”
and had been suffering some time from an “evil hand,” as the wise Dr. Griggs had declared.
The Salem keeper, Uncle Robie, true to his accustomed plan of action, received Master Raymond very gruffly; but after he had got rid of the other professionals, he had a good long talk, and made his cell quite comfortable for him. He also took him in to visit Antipas, who was delighted to see him, and also to hear that Mistress Dulcibel, was quite comfortably lodged with Keeper Arnold.
Then the young man threw himself upon his bed, and slept soundly till morning. He did not need much study to decide upon his plans, as he had contemplated such a possibility as that, ever since the arrest of Dulcibel, and had fully made up his mind in what manner he would meet it. If, however, he had known the results of the conference of the “afflicted circle” two days previous, he would have felt more encouraged as to the probable success of the defence he meditated. The constable that had aided the deputy-marshall in making the arrest, had agreed however to send word to Joseph Putnam of what had occurred; and comforted by the thought of having at least one staunch friend to stand by him, Master Raymond had slept soundly even on a prison pallet.
The next morning, as early as the rules of the jail would admit, Joseph Putnam came to see him. “I had intended to come and see you in Boston to-day,” said Master Joseph, “but the she-wolf was too quick for me.”
“Why, had you heard anything?”
“Yes, and I hardly understand it. Abigail Williams called to see Goodwife Buckley yesterday, and told her in confidence that it was probable you would be cried out against by Sister Ann and Jethro Sands; and to warn me of it.”
“Abigail Williams!”
“Yes; and she also dropped a hint that none of the other ‘afflicted girls’ had anything to do with it — for they looked upon you as a very nice young man, and a friend.”
“Well, that is good news indeed,” said Master Raymond brightening up.
“And I called upon Doctor Griggs on my way here, and he says he is confident there was an ‘evil hand’ upon you when you were suffering at my house; and he will be on hand at the examination to give his testimony, if it is needed, to that effect.”
“But that terrible sister-in-law of yours! If she could only be kept away from the examination for half-an-hour; and give me time to impress the magistrates and the people a little.”
“It might be done perhaps,” said Joseph Putnam musing.
“Do not be too conscientious about the means, my dear friend,” continued Master Raymond. “Do not stand so straight that you lean backward. Remember that this is war and a just war against false witnesses, the shedders of innocent blood, and wicked or deceived rulers. If I am imprisoned, what is to become of Dulcibel? Think of her — do not think of me.”
Joseph Putnam was greatly agitated. “I will do all I can for both of you. But my soul recoils from anything like deceit, as from wickedness itself. But I will think over it, and see if I cannot devise some way to keep Sister Ann away, for a time or altogether.”
“Give me at least fifteen minutes to work on the Magistrates, and to enlist the sympathies of the people in my behalf. For me, so far as my conscience is concerned, I should not hesitate to shoot that Jezebel. For the murder of the twenty innocent men and women who have now been put to death, she is mainly responsible. And to kill her who surely deserves to die, might save the lives of fifty others.”
Joseph Putnam shook his head. “I cannot see the matter in that light, Friend Raymond.”
“Oh,” replied Raymond, “of course I do not mean you should kill Mistress Ann. I only put it as giving my idea of how far my conscience would allow me to go in the matter. Draw her off in some way though — keep her out of the room for awhile — give me a little time to work in.”
“I will do all I can; you may be sure of that,” responded Master Putnam emphatically.
Here further confidential conversation was prevented by the entrance of the marshall.
CHAPTER XLII.
Master Raymond Astonishes the Magistrates.
The examination was to commence at three o’clock in the afternoon, and to be held in the Court House in the town, as being more convenient to Squire Hathorne than the meeting-house in the village.
As Master Thomas Putnam’s house and farm were several miles beyond the village, it made quite a long ride for them to attend the examination. He had arranged with his wife, however, to start immediately after their usual twelve o’clock dinner, taking her behind him on a pillion, as was customary at that day — his daughter Ann being already in town, where she was paying a visit to a friend. He had received however a message about ten o’clock, requesting his immediate presence at Ipswich, on a matter of the most urgent importance; and though he was greatly puzzled by it, he concluded to go at once to Ipswich and go from there direct to Salem town, without coming home again, as it would be very much out of his road to do so.
According to this new arrangement, Mistress Ann would take the other horse, and a lady’s saddle, and ride to town by herself. They had still a third horse, but that was already in town with her daughter.
The Court House was but a short distance from the prison; and, as it was a good Puritan fashion to be punctual to the minute, at three o’clock precisely Squires Hathorne and Corwin were in their arm-chairs, and Master Raymond standing on the raised platform in front of them. As the latter looked carefully around the room, he saw that neither Thomas Putnam nor his mischievous wife, nor his own best friend Joseph Putnam, was present. Squire Hathorne also observed that Mistress Ann Putnam was not present; but, as she was usually very punctual, he concluded that she would be there in a few minutes, and after some whispered words with his colleague, resolved to proceed with the examination.
Turning to the young Englishman, he said in his usual stern tones:— “Ellis Raymond, you are brought before authority, upon high suspicion of sundry acts of witchcraft. Now tell us the truth of this matter.”
But no answer came from the accused. Then, when all eyes were intently regarding him, he gave a wild shriek, and fell outstretched upon the platform.
“Let me to him!” said Dr. Griggs, elbowing his way through the crowd. “I said a month ago that an ‘evil hand’ was upon him; and now I am certain of it.”
Master Raymond had not been an attentive observer of the recent trials for nothing; and he now gave the audience an exhibition which would compare favorably with the best, even with Mistress Ann Putnam’s and Abigail William’s. His face became shockingly contorted, and he writhed and twisted and turned convulsively. He tore imaginary spectral hands from around his neck. He pushed imaginary weights from off his breast. He cried, “Take them away! Pray, take them away!” until the whole company were very much affected; and even the magistrates were greatly astounded.
Dr. Griggs loosened his collar and unbuttoned his doublet, and had water brought to sprinkle his face keeping up a running fire of words at the same time, to the effect that he knew, and had said, as least a month before, that Master Raymond had an “evil hand” upon him.
“Who is it hurts you?” at length asked credulous Squire Hathorne.
“See, there is the yellow bird!” cried the young man, staring into vacancy. “He is coming to peck my eyes out! Kill it! kill it!” dashing his hands out from his face violently. “Has no one a sword — pray do try to kill it!”
Here an impetuous young villager, standing by, drew his rapier, and stabbed violently in the direction of the supposed spectral bird.
“Oh! Oh! You almost killed it! See, there are some of its feathers!” And three yellow feathers were seen floating in the air; being small chicken feathers with which he had been provided that very morning by Uncle Robie, the jailer; and which the adroit Master Raymond rightly thought would have a prodigious effect.
And the result was fully equal to his expectations. From that moment, it was evident that he had all the beholders with him; and Squire Hathorne, disposed as he had been to condemn him almost without a hea
ring, was completely staggered. He had the feathers from the “yellow bird” carefully placed upon his desk, with the purpose of transmitting them at once to Master Cotton Mather who, with these palpable proofs of the reality of the spectral appearance would be able utterly to demolish all the skeptical unbelievers.
Finding that such an effect had been produced, Master Raymond allowed himself to regain his composure somewhat.
“Mistress Ann Putnam, who is one of the two complainants, unaccountably is not here,” said Squire Hathorne. “Master Jethro Sands, what have you to say against this young man? You are the other complainant.”
“Probably my mother has come to the conclusion that she was mistaken, as I told her; and therefore she has remained at home,” said Ann Putnam, the daughter; who was delighted with the feather exhibition, and was secretly wondering how it was done.
“Well, what have you to say, — Jethro Sands?”
The audience looked around at Jethro with scornful faces, evidently considering him an imposter. What did he know about witches — compared to this rich young man from over the seas?
“Tell him you find you were mistaken also,” whispered Leah Herrick.
“After seeing what we have seen, I withdraw my charges, Squire. I think that Mistress Putnam and myself must have been visited by the spectre of somebody else, and not by Master Raymond.”
“I hope that next time you will wait until you are quite certain,” replied Squire Hathorne gruffly. “Do you know that Master Raymond can have his action against you for very heavy damages, for slander and defamation?”
“I certainly am very sorry, and humbly beg Master Raymond’s pardon,” said Jethro, very much alarmed. He had never thought that the affair might take this turn — as indeed it did in many cases, some six months afterward; and which was a very effective damper upon the spirits of the prosecutors.
Then the magistrates could do nothing less than discharge the prisoner; and Master Raymond stepped down from the platform a free man, to be surrounded by quite a circle of sympathizing friends. But his first thanks were due to Dr. Griggs for his professional services.
