I buckled the belt of the sword I had caught up about me. Something familiar about the hilt of the weapon drew my attention. Then, as I examined it as well as I could in the darkness, I found, with pleasure, that it was my own good steel, that had been taken from me. Now I was ready to meet the whole world, but, first of all, I wanted to stand before one man, and that one was Sir George Keith.
I washed the paste of bread from my face. I gave a look toward the gaol, which was now some distance behind. From the direction came a confused murmur of sounds. I was free; but whither should I go?
I was like a ship without a compass. Salem was no longer a safe place for me. Lucille, whom I had hoped to wed, was the wife of another. My arrest as a witch was an end to any military preferment in the Colony. My life seemed to have come to an end, now.
I had hastened on, thus musing, until I found myself near to the inn of Master Willis. The rain came down softly, and the only creature stirring in the neighborhood seemed to be me. None of the prisoners had come that way.
Hark! What was that?
The echo of my footsteps died away. Then, from the stable, back of the inn, came the whinny of a horse.
“Kit!” I exclaimed. I had almost forgotten my faithful little mare, which Willis had kept for me ever since I first came to Salem. There was one true friend at least.
Myself, my sword, my horse. What more could a soldier wish? Love? I had that too, it seemed, though it was not all mine. Strange, when I was loving Lucille, I never thought another might love her too. I never thought she might have loved another. She seemed all mine. ’Twas a hard nut to crack. If only there had been no marriage between Lucille and Sir George. But straightway I had wished that I wished it away; for what it meant to her.
Kit whinnied again. It was like a message to me. I must leave Salem, to go I knew nor cared not where. First of all to get Kit out. I walked around to the stable door and, with a stone, easily broke the lock. Kit knew me as soon as I stepped inside. I stroked her glossy neck, patted her moist nose, and, running my hands down her legs, knew that she was in good shape, and fit for a hard, fast ride.
I found the saddle and bridle, put them on, and led her out into the road. Then I leaped upon her back, shook the reins, and we were off.