I had scarce another bit of strength left, but still I would not let them get the mastery, and I kept pushing upward. The darkness left me, in its place a great light seeming to shine.
“Lord of Hosts,” I prayed, “let me be the victor.”
I felt the solid planks give. They cracked and splintered, a little at first, as when a wedge first cleaves an entrance. I could not breathe. But, with fiercely beating heart, I heard the sound of rending wood, and it mingled in my ears with the roar of the blood surging through my head. My knees seemed crushed. My arms like two stone pillars.
Then, while all the crowd looked on in wonder, I did that, which, though I boast not of, no other man in the Colony could have done and lived after.
I broke the ponderous planks across the middle, as a boy might splinter a shingle across his knee.
Right through they cracked, where the big wooden screw was set in, and so heavy was the strain I had put upon them, the pieces flew high in the air.
A great peace came over me, and I sank back on the rough wooden bed. I knew naught, save that I heard a loud shout go up, and many murmurs were heard on all sides.
Suddenly it was dark again, and my ears were filled with the noise of the sea dashing on the rocks. But above that I heard the people cry:
“He has broken the press with his witch strength! Saw ever man the like?”