“Bah!” I cried, “are you afraid of that man? Why, you would have laughed had you been there to have heard the tales of witchcraft related as evidence in court.”
And then I told Carteret all that had happened, save only about the first warrant Sir George had, which was for treason, sure enough, though I did not hold it so.
“You seem to have suffered much, you and Mistress Lucille,” said the commander, when I had finished, “and your tale savors of the truth. But as I am only acting as Governor, and the representative of the King in the absence of my brother, I must move cautiously in the matter. If I did not serve the royal warrant, even though it be for witchcraft, which you say does not exist, I may be held to strict account. So though I am loath to so do I must hold you as a prisoner under the aforesaid parole.”
Lucille had been listening to all that was said. At the last words of Carteret she took a step forward, and drew from the bosom of her dress a sea-stained document, the import of which I knew. She held it out to Carteret.
“What? More warrants?” he asked, smiling a little.
“Read,” said Lucille.
He unfolded the parchment.
“‘Royal’--hum--there is a blot here,” he read, “‘royal,’ oh yes, ‘pardon,’ that is it. ‘Royal pardon given by His Excellency, Sir William Phips, Governor of Massachusetts, to one Captain Edward Amherst, of Salem town, who is accused of the crime of witchcraft.’ Why--why----”
“Aye, ‘why, why,’” mimicked Lucille. “What now of prisoners and paroles?”
Carteret stared at the pardon in his hand.