The next day was to be signalized by the death of Miss Lyford. The public feeling was now so far subdued, that there was little danger to be apprehended from the populace. If the death of Burroughs had excited so little commotion, it was concluded there would be no interruption to any future proceedings of the like character. Moreover, there was a general belief that few cases of witchcraft had been more clearly defined, and the singular language which had been addressed to her from the woods, and was heard by others, was considered entirely conclusive in her case. There had been no attempt to trace the cause of this strange proceeding, but it was at once attributed to mysterious and spiritual agents; yet Lyford suspected what afterwards proved true, that a female from Hadley, who knew his sister's history and was in the confidence of her grandfather, had been employed by Trellison in this work of deception; but he had no means of proving such a plot, and any attempt to implicate Trellison, who was now in high favor with the ruling powers, would probably recoil on himself, and lessen the chances of his sister's escape.
No access to Miss Lyford had been for some time permitted, except to her brother, and even this indulgence was now prohibited. Trellison found means, however, to convey to her a full confession of his guilt, his determination to avow it publicly, and if possible to stay the proceedings. He earnestly begged her forgiveness, and assured her that he wished to live no longer than to make a public vindication of her character, and save her if possible from her impending doom. This communication was not received till late in the evening, and it being impossible to obtain the favor of a light, or to procure the least office of kindness from her keepers, Mary was, of course, wholly ignorant of its contents. Her mind, also, was so fully occupied with the plans now in progress for her deliverance, that she was the less anxious to know its purport, and placing the paper in her bosom, the incident was nearly forgotten.
Trellison was involved in difficulties which so distracted his mind, that he was unable to devise any probable means, by which Miss Lyford's fate could be averted. His confessions and retractions, if made, he knew would only be regarded as new proof of her Satanic arts, and he now thought it safer to make his appeal to the populace and enlist their sympathies, than to attempt to stay a warrant which had been already issued, and could only be revoked by the Governor. Still he was unsettled in his plans, except that in the failure of all other means, he resolved to vindicate her at the scaffold, though it might cost him his life. The truth was, his convictions and remorse had arrived too late; and in the existing state of public feeling there was no proper light, in which evidence could be fairly seen; or if seen, its legitimate power could not at that time be felt. Strange as it may seem, the reports circulated by Cotton Mather on the preceding day had maddened the populace, and made them insatiate of blood. It was now believed that the death of Miss Lyford was essential to the public peace, and there was probably no moment in the progress of this delusion, when it ran higher, or was more terrible in its control over every generous feeling, than at this period.
Meanwhile, it was on the extravagance of this delusion that Miss Lyford's friends relied for her deliverance. The very feeling which Trellison feared would render his confessions unavailing, they were willing to provoke as the best means of her salvation. Mr. and Mrs. Ellerson no longer made any appeal in her behalf. Strale was in Boston, apparently unconcerned and unaffected, while Lyford alone kept his post near his sister, the only visible friend, from whom she could expect countenance or support.
There is that in human calamity, which, unsoothed by the voice of sympathy, and unrelieved by the kind offices of friendship, falls with a withering and consuming power on the heart. When such calamity is frequent and long continued, even the ties of kindred and affection are often sundered, and the unhappy sufferer, though conscious of rectitude, finds himself sinking in despondency, solitary and desolate, and his only support is drawn from the hope of a better world. Such emphatically was the condition of those who were proscribed for their supposed sorceries. Cut off from the sympathies of their fellow men, exposed to insult, violence, and death, and at last consigned to the scaffold, they were spectacles of unrelieved sorrow and wretchedness, of which the world can furnish few examples. But these unhappy victims did not forget their obligations to their fellow men and to God. They almost uniformly died in the spirit of forgiveness; and if, as the scoffer and the infidel allege, there be no hereafter, no review of character and responsibility, no discrimination between good and bad beyond this fleeting world, no probationary life here, and no retributory condition hereafter, then indeed is our faith vain, our works of love and charity are vain, and an unbroken gloom rests on the territories of the grave!
But the infidel forgets that the same chance which placed him in this world may not yet have exhausted its power. If it can move the world in its orbit, regulate the seasons, and govern, by irrepealable law, the motions of unnumbered suns and worlds, it may, for aught he can tell, act upon his future being; it may redeem the vital principle from the ashes of the tomb, and cast it among some new elements of life, which may be perfectly adapted to the work of retribution. Let him then beware of a theory which provides no security for his future happiness, while it reserves the right to perpetuate his being for ever; let him turn his eye to that even balance, in which his actions will be weighed, and bring home to his heart the consolations which nothing but the gospel, approved, accepted, and trusted, can supply.