"Let us be still, and crave help of God," said the governor, solemnly. "I have been asking such questions of the Lord all night, and my resolve was firm."
Awed by the thrilling earnestness of his voice Lady Phipps bowed her head and fell into a painful reverie, half thought, half prayer. When she looked up a sweet calmness shone in her eyes.
"Still, my husband, I say pardon this woman, and let her go beyond the seas."
"That she may render other men wretched as I am?" exclaimed Sir William. "Nay, do not plead for her. The evidence of her sorcery is here, in my bosom. This clamorous pity, which will not let me rest, is a part of it. Knowing what I know, feeling the entire justice of her condemnation, I have but one course before me."
"And the woman must die?" exclaimed Lady Phipps, piteously, forgetting her own wrongs in the flood of compassion that filled her heart.
A shudder ran through Sir William's strong frame as he repeated her words: "The woman must die!"
"Take time—only take a few more hours for consideration," pleaded the self-sacrificing wife. "It is like sending her into eternity when you banish her across the ocean. Do that, and so let her pass out of our lives."
"Nay, I will do nothing. Think you, child, that this heart does not tempt me enough? Must your sweet magnanimity urge on its weakness? Hark! that is Samuel Parris claiming admittance. I will not see him. Of all others, I will not see him!"
"Oh, but he is a good man—a just and merciful man," pleaded the wife.
"I will not see him, nevertheless, nor any one till to-morrow is over. Bring my overcoat and hat. I will go through the back entrance to the stables and so escape him."