I was following Abigail to Ingersoll’s Inn, when, on the corner, I saw her and wanted to know what she was up to. I called out to her. She either did not hear me or chose not to. What a headstrong girl she was. I entered Ingersoll’s and saw Abigail swoon, then faint, hitting the floor, her black dress surrounding her. Her face was unusually white. Then my eyes lifted and I understood why.

There he was, the wretched young boy strapped to a board with blood gushing from his nose. I heard a voice, in the misty distance say, ‘For the love of God, stop this torture. What can a boy tell you? Stop this at once.’ I came out of my shock and joined my voice with his. ‘Stop this at once, for pity’s sake.’

‘Stop this at once.’ At the sight of me, they did. The boy was too weak to move and the owner of the other voice and I lifted him up after his straps were released. This stranger said he would take him in his carriage. I grasped his hands, strong and smooth, thanking him, but told him I would take the boy back with Abigail and care for them both.

‘Are you sure?’

I nodded and went to bring Abigail outside. The stranger said that he would take me back to the parsonage with Abigail and the boy. And that was what happened.

When Abigail came to, she saw the young boy, and gave a piercing scream twice, put her arms around him and wept. I had never seen Abigail show so much remorse for anything.

‘Abigail, do you know this boy?’

Between sobs, she told me, ‘It’s my brother; I’ve known him from his birth and looked after him as a babe.’

I didn’t know she had a brother. But nothing would surprise me about Abigail.

On arriving at the parsonage, after thanking the kind person, may God bless him, I took the boy out of the coach and stood him up to see if he could walk. But his legs buckled so I carried him to the parsonage first and laid him on my bed. Then I rushed back to the carriage to take Abigail inside. The carriage left slowly. I waved before putting my arm around Abigail’s waist, guiding her inside. I made both her and the boy a hot drink to sip. When the boy had finished, I saw gratitude in his eyes. I boiled some water, made it tepid with some cold water, and after putting it into a basin with soap, I washed him down and dried him. I put a shirt on him, a shirt that seemed to swallow him but he began to look less miserable and gave me a small smile after I’d ruffled his hair. I bid him good rest.

By this time I was drained physically and mentally. I made a drink of hot chocolate for myself, which I sipped, trying to regain some calm. I saw that my hands were trembling. Just as I was thinking that I must take a hold of myself, a knock sounded on the door. It was Captain Walcott.

‘Come in, my good man. How I need to talk to you. Would you like a hot chocolate?’

‘If you have any brandy, I would much prefer that please.’

I was shocked that he was so forthright but I fetched the brandy. He quaffed it down. I looked at him. His eyes were averted.

‘Sit yourself down. We live in troubled, nay torturous times.’

‘Aye,’ he said.

There were lines in his handsome face that I had never seen before. He had a dishevelled look; he was not his usual immaculate self. I continued. ‘The atrocities that the sadist in England has devised are now being used in this village. I just came from Ingersoll’s where a small boy, a brother of Abigail’s’, was being tortured, strapped to a block. Poor Abigail stood taking everything in and then fainted, ending up on the floor.’

I saw the captain jerk.

‘I stopped it; me and another man.’

‘Who was he?’

‘I’ve never seen him before in my life.’

‘Where did he come from?’

‘I know not.’

The captain went on talking. ‘It all has to stop. But we have a long battle on our hands. The magistrate Robert Hawthorne is not a man to be trifled with. I suspect he has no pity; there is a cruel streak in him. Jonathan Corwin is a gentler man but he will be dominated by Hawthorne. And this Court of Oyer and Terminer is a mockery. It relies on spectral evidence, that is, if the girls go into fits at the sight of you, then you are damned. Already five people have been hanged on Gallows Hill, screaming their innocence till their last breath. How must they have felt?’

‘I know not.’

‘You know it’s about a mile to there and I can never forget their faces, drawn and tinged with confusion, as they stood in the cart, with their hands tied up.’

The captain stopped suddenly. He took sharp sips of brandy. He looked at me, face haggard.

‘The Court of Oyer and Terminer is the Devil’s work. They look for the teats of the Devil on men and women. James, I agree with every word you say. I admit to you, James, I think God has forsaken us. I don’t know what to do anymore. The people who are now being accused aren’t the people who were accused before in England. Here anyone can be accused. It doesn’t matter if you are black or white; it doesn’t matter if you are a woman or a man, and it doesn’t matter if you are poor or very rich. It is madness! Everything is against us; there is nothing for us. Thank God I have you to speak to.’

‘But not for long, Pastor.’

I gasped.

‘You see, I came to you today to bid you farewell for I will leave this village for afar in the morn, if that’s not too late. I think it is better if I leave in the night.’

‘But why, Captain, why? Who can I turn to when you are gone? Why?’

‘Because, dear Pastor, the girls have now accused me of being a wizard.’

I couldn’t speak. I dare not speak my thoughts because I loved this man. My eyes must have given the message in my heart because when I took hold of him and wept, he rebuffed me and freeing himself, left as I opened the door for him. I stood there watching the captain’s horse gallop away as desolation swept over me.