Part 10 (1/2)
Here she heard the noise of the bolt being withdrawn, and saw the dim light of the jailer's candle.
As the jailer entered he threw down some heavy irons in the corner of the room. Then, he closed the door behind him, and came up to the unhappy girl. He laid his hand upon her shoulder and said:
”You little witch!”
Something in the tone seemed to strike upon the maiden's ear as if it were not unfamiliar to her; and she looked up hastily.
”Do you not remember me, little Dulcy? Why I rocked you on my foot in the old Captain's house in Boston many a day.”
”Is it not uncle Robie?” said the girl. She had not seen him since she was four years old.
The jailer smiled. ”Of course it is,” he replied, ”just uncle Robie. The old captain never went to sea that Robie Foster did not go as first mate. And a blessed day it was when I came to be first mate of this jail-s.h.i.+p; though I never thought to see the old captain's bonnie bird among my boarders.”
”And do you think I really am a witch, uncle Robie?”
”Of course ye are. A witch of the worst kind,” replied Robie, with a chuckle. ”Now, when I come in here tomorrow morning nae doobt I will find all your chains off. It is just sae with pretty much all the others. I cannot keep them chained, try my best and prettiest.”
”And Antipas?”
”Oh, he will just be like all the rest of them, doobtless. He is a powerful witch, and half a Quaker, besides.”
”But do you really believe in witches, uncle Robie?”
”What do these deuced Barebones Puritans know about witches, or the devil, or anything else? There is only one true church, Mistress Dulcibel. I have sa mooch respect for the clergy as any man; but I don't take my sailing orders from a set of sourfaced old pirates.”
Then, leaving her a candle and telling her to keep up a stout heart, the jailer left the cell; and Dulcibel heard the heavy bolt again drawn upon her, with a much lighter heart, than before. Examining the bundle of clothes that Goodwife Buckley had made up, she found that nothing essential to her comfort had been forgotten, and she soon was sleeping as peacefully in her prison cell as if she were in her own pretty little chamber.
CHAPTER XVII.
Dulcibel before the Magistrates.
The next afternoon the meeting-house at Salem village was crowded to its utmost capacity; for Dulcibel Burton and Antipas Newton were to be brought before the wors.h.i.+pful magistrates, John Hathorne and Jonathan Corwin. These worthies were not only magistrates, but persons of great note and influence, being members of the highest legislative and judicial body in the Province of Ma.s.sachusetts Bay.
Among the audience were Joseph Putnam and Ellis Raymond; the former looking stern and indignant, the latter wearing an apparently cheerful countenance, genial to all that he knew, and they were many; and especially courteous and agreeable to Mistress Ann Putnam, and the ”afflicted” maidens. It was evident that Master Raymond was determined to preserve for himself the freedom of the village, if complimentary and pleasant speeches would effect it. It would not do to be arrested or banished, now that Dulcibel was in prison.
When the constable, Joseph Herrick, brought in Dulcibel, he stated that having made ”diligent search for images and such like,” they had found a ”yellow bird,” of the kind that witches were known to affect; a wicked book of stage-plays, which seemed to be about witches, especially one called ”he-cat”; and a couple of rag dolls with pins stuck into them.
”Have you brought them?” said Squire Hathorne.
”We killed the yellow bird and threw it and the wicked book into the fire.”
”You should not have done that; you should have produced them here.”
”We can get the book yet; for it was lying only partly burned near the back-log. It would not burn, all we could do to it.”
”Of course not. Witches' books never burn,” said Squire Hathorne.
”Here are the images,” said a constable, producing two little rag-babies, that Dulcibel was making for a neighbor's children.