“This man,” he continued, “was, as I telled you, my cherished friend, my confidant in all things, although he possessed no interest in my craft. Being of a bookish turn of mind, he treated with friendly derision and apparent unconcern my experiments in leechcraft and chirurgery, professing no faith in them. Now it having been my practice to consult regularly a soothsayer, I learned from him that in two years’ time England would be visited by the Black Plague. Thereby I was greatly saddened and sorrowed o’ nights, having visions of good folk dying in the streets and carted off to the potter’s field. Most of all did I think of the poor children who have not their elders’ philosophy to bear pain and are most tender to suffer so. The thought of these poor little ones so worked upon me that I had no peace. At last an idea of great magnitude took possession of me. In the two years’ time that was to elapse afore this terrible visitation would take place, I resolved to discover a simple which would be both a preventive and a cure for this plague with which the Lord sees fit to visit us at sundry times. I took his Majesty the King into my confidence. The proposed adventure received his gracious approval. For its furtherance he gave me large monies, and I also used the greater substance of my house. I travelled to India to consult with Eastern scholars, wondrously learned in mysterious ways beyond our ken. Weeks, day and night, I spent in experimenting. At last one morn, just as the day broke, and its light fell on my two trusty servitors who had fallen asleep e’en as they stood assisting me, I gave a great shout for joy. My last experiment had stood the test. I had triumphed. The recipe was perfected. ‘Wake, wake,’ I cried, ‘and give thanks unto God.’
“So powerful was the powder, of such noble strength, that e’en its odour caused my daughter to swoon lily-white when I would have administered a dose to her as a preventive against sickness in the future. One man only besides the King was in my confidence. This was my friend and he was my undoing. Whilst I was in attendance upon his Majesty who had been wounded at a boar-hunt, this false friend, having free access to my house, entered and stole the parchment having the recipe. With a wounded heart I set to work, again to recall the intricate formula of the recipe. I was unsuccessful. Papers of value leading to the composing of the cure were left me, but the amount and proper compounding of the ingredients had been set down only in the stolen parchment. To add to my trouble I perceived that the King’s faith in me was shaken, that he regretted the monies put at my disposal. Moreover, he credited not my tale of my false friend’s baseness, but professed to think I had failed, and strove to hide my discomfiture beneath a cloak of lies. I despaired. At last I learned that my enemy had gone to America and landed at ye Town of Boston, whither I followed him. I arrived after a favourable voyage and sought your Governor. To him alone I gave my rightful name and mission. And here with much secrecy I was obliged to work, having no proof by which to confirm my accusation. My only hope lay in surprising my enemy afore he had time to destroy the parchment from fear and malice. My search led me to your town. It was the close of day. I sent my Indian guide to a farmhouse for food, and seated myself on a fallen tree for a resting-minute. I was o’er cautious and determined not to enter the town afore nightfall, desiring that my enemy should not recognize me, if I by any inadvertence happed to cross his path. As I waited, there came tripping along this same little maid whom you would have hanged.
“I learned from her of the stranger in your town. Thereat I resolved to go back to Boston Town and obtain assistance to arrest this base traitor. Now, prompted by an unfortunate desire to annoy him and full of triumph, I did whisper in the little maid’s ear tormenting words to say when next she met him, chuckling to myself as I thought of his astonishment that a fair and innocent child should have an inkling of his guilt. So high did my spirits rise after the little maid left me that I could not sit still, but must needs rise and stroll down the path to meet my Indian guide. There I met an old silly, praying. I dropped a black pellet in one of his pails of milk as an idle jest. But I have paid dearly for my malicious chuckling. I have paid well.” The speaker paused to groan and wipe the sweat from his brow.
“I have travelled far in uncivilized countries, amidst savage people,” he continued, “but ne’er have I known such a terrible journey as I endured last night. The memory of it will last me throughout this world, and who knows and the Lord forgive not my sins, but that I shall remember it in the next. I was carried up stream and down stream, terrible insects arose with a buzzing sound and fastened themselves on my flesh, the howling of wild beasts smote my ears. Yet am I thankful to have made that journey, for by it I have saved the life of a brave lass who hath done a doughtier deed in her King’s service than any of you who have prosecuted her. It was her nimble wit, working in prison, that obtained the stolen parchment and sent it to me. Through her messenger I learned of my enemy’s intent to strike at my very vitals, my high position and favour with the King. He was having the recipe compounded, to return with it to England and obtain the honour of its discovery himself. But thanks be to God, the evil of his ways was his undoing. This little maid whom you would have hanged hath saved England from the plague, and I am made her debtor for life.”
A shout broke from the stern, repressed Puritans.
“Let us behold the little maid who hath saved England. Let the child stand forth.”
Governor Phipps put Deliverance upon her feet, and holding her hand walked to the edge of the platform. When the people saw her in her sad-coloured gown, her hair a golden glory around her face, they were silent from awe and self-reproach. Only when the kitten leapt upon her petticoat and climbed to her shoulder, there seating itself with rightful pride, the sober Puritans broke into wild shoutings and laughter. Laughter mingled with tears, that in all the town of Salem, so brave a maid had found in her extremity but two loyal friends, Mistress Abigail Brewster and a little kitten.
Deliverance, frightened by the cries and unwonted animation of the upturned faces, began to weep and put out her arms pitifully to Lord Christopher.
“Oh, might it pleasure ye to take me home, good sir?”
Before he could reply, a young man bounded up the ladder and caught the little maid in his arms.