I listened to this conversation with my ear to the door. I padded back to Betty to tell her what I had heard.

‘He asked Captain Walcott if he was interested in taking a wife.’

I laughed lightly.

‘And what did he say?’

‘Well, he became a trifle irate and said he hadn’t met the woman of his desire as yet. He just wanted to speak about politics.’

‘He is still young. You know men don’t settle down till they are about thirty.’

‘That’s what he seemed to suggest.’

All at once, I drank in those words. Robert was still young and nowhere near thirty as yet. Would he be any different? Would I get commitment from him? I suspected that Betty thought Robert was just playing with me and maybe she was right.

‘Let’s go for a walk. The sun is shining.’

Betty thought for a while then agreed. I tied my laces of my boots in the parlour.

We strolled slowly the way Betty liked it. I didn’t mind because I could stop to look at birds and possums that delighted me. We crossed the bridge at Frost Free River and I threw some stones in. We saw Dr Griggs waving to us in the distance and we waved back.

‘It isn’t just us,’ I said to Betty as we swung our legs from the bridge.

‘I know,’ said Betty.

‘I wonder what causes our outcries.’

‘Well, it has happened after we went to the woods.’

‘Silly Betty, it has nothing to do with that. Your father doesn’t know; the doctor doesn’t know.’

I was surprised that Betty did not rise to criticism of her father.

‘I wonder what will happen next,’ said Betty.

I thought she might try and tell me as she thought she could foresee events.

‘Nobody knows,’ I said.

‘So many families are affected. It’s not just families but farms and animals. I know the animals are hurting but so are children. They are eating less because the farms are being neglected,’ said Betty.

‘You’re right. What will happen to our corn and rye for our bread? What about our turnips for soups? Where is the scythe or sickle? So many people have been accused and everyone is afraid of being accused,’ I said.

‘The very months when fields have to be harvested yet no work is taking place. We might all starve in the coming months. Too few people are thinking of that,’ said Betty.

‘Is it so strange that they are not working after what is happening in our village? If people don’t work, there will be no food. We will face starvation,’ I said.

‘I really think we should be getting back.’

‘Betty, let’s go down there.’ I scampered off at speed and let her follow me. I waited till she caught up with me. I pointed south.

‘Look Betty, a carriage is there.’

‘It’s not the carriage that stops at Ingersoll’s Inn, is it?’

‘No, it’s smaller. Let’s go and have a look.’

We both ran through trees until we got to the road and then we walked sedately to the carriage. When we got closer, we saw it was Captain Brackett.

He saw us and gave us a little bow.

‘Good afternoon, Captain Brackett, and where are you going to?’

‘Do you really think that I would tell you young ladies that?’ He smiled at us.

‘How long will you be away?’ asked Betty innocently.

‘I know not, my sweet ladies.’

‘Bon voyage,’ I said.

‘Bon voyage,’ mimicked Betty.

Captain Brackett stepped into the carriage with a case and we noticed there were a lot of packages in the back of the carriage. He doffed his hat to us and with the clip clop of the horse the carriage slowly rolled away before picking up speed and disappearing from view.

‘Do you think he’s going to a sick family member?’ said Betty.

‘No, no. Captain Brackett has left Salem Village forever. We will never see him again.’

We walked back to the parsonage past Leach’s Hill where the witch cakes had been baked. We crossed the bridge on Frost Free River and took the lane from Ipswich road to Meeting House road. We quickened our speed so we could tell the pastor what we had seen.

Captain Walcott was just coming out of the parsonage.

‘Captain, did you know that Captain Brackett has left the village? We saw him go.’

His head fell and his eyes were sad. ‘I can see there will be more work for me now,’ he said as he got onto his horse and rode away.

‘Oh, I’ve got mud on my boots,’ said Betty.

‘Small problem,’ I said. ‘

What are we going to cook tonight, without Tituba?’

‘Betty, don’t be so dramatic.’

That evening I braced myself to ask my uncle: ‘Who knew we were meeting in the woods with Tituba?’

He looked straight into my eyes and said, ‘Abigail, I really wouldn’t know.’

I didn’t believe him.