We arrived at the meeting house and saw that everybody who was there before was back again. Mr Hawthorne moved his bulk to the front. Mr Corwin with two captains either side of him stood next to the chief magistrate.

I stood next to the other two accused women. We stood behind chairs where the seat faced us. The other two women had one knee on the seat and clutched the spindled back of the chair for support I stood erect. I felt sorry for those women. Their eyes were baggy from lack of sleep and their hair bedraggled without a comb.

‘Everyone here today is fully aware of the evil of witchcraft. It is a heinous crime which is condemned. It is evil. God forbids it. We ally ourselves with the Devil if we practise witchcraft. It must be stamped out.

‘Sarah Good, please stand. The court has found that you must stay in Ipswich prison tonight and be taken to Boston prison tomorrow and wait on trial there.’

I heard a shout from her husband, his voice echoed through the meeting house.

‘You have found her guilty because she is poor, not because she is guilty.’

‘I will tolerate no comments,’ said Mr Hawthorne.

Sarah Good wobbled in a jerky fashion. Captain Walcott looked quite distressed.

‘Sarah Osborne, please stand.’ I saw her teeter to her feet. ‘The court has found you …’ Sarah caught her breath. ‘… in the same circumstances as Sarah Good.’ Sarah Osborne’s face showed not only disbelief but shock. Then her face went savage,

‘Sarah Good, you are a true witch and that is why you have accused me.’ She collapsed on the floor.

Captain Walcott came to her assistance and picked her up gently as a shocked murmur ran like a startled rat round the meeting house.

‘Finally we turn to Tituba.’

I stood fearless.

‘After much deliberation, we find her …’

I was straight backed and didn’t move a muscle for I knew that this Mr Hawthorne enjoyed playing games. He enjoyed seeing hope crushed. I would show him what I was made of.

Mr Hawthorne continued, ‘ … to be in the same circumstances as the former two women and so will spend the night in Ipswich prison with them and be moved to Boston on the morrow.’

Mr Hawthorne pulled the lapels of his coat down as if to say ‘the job has been done’. Then he brushed his hand down one sleeve; then with his other hand, the other side. He turned to Captain Walcott with a smile that looked more of a grin. Captain Walcott forced a small smile back. Mr Hawthorne stared at me. I stared at him thinking of all the curses and spells I could bring down on this evil man. We stared at each other till he looked away.

‘I have confessed and still you find me guilty.’

I saw Mr Hawthorne jolt for a second.

I was so fixed in my thinking that I hadn’t noticed that Betty had fainted behind me. The pastor and Abigail were looking after her and for once I was thinking of myself. John Indian came to me them and held my hand. Our eyes met in love.

I heard the horses’ hooves pounding on the earth. Still feeling giddy from the reverie in the meeting house, it was not till I reached the weather-stained wooden prison at Boston that I began to quiver in fear. It was the lock that my eyes could not leave. Rust was embedded into the iron work of the lock on that oaken door. Beside the door pig weed grew, stunted and deformed. I was led inside with the other two women, their heads down. The dampness seeped into me as I fingered the wall. This was far, far different to Barbados.

I started to sing in a doleful tone, my voice, in African dialect, echoing in this dungeon-like place. I sang for protection against the duppies and the evil men in this world. The other two women lifted their faces, and never hearing my language before, stared at me in astonishment.