“Thus I would make an example of the little maid whom you have persecuted, that you may deal gently with children, remembering how near you were to shedding her innocent blood. I beseech you, by the grievous sin that you and your learned judges so nearly committed, to be tender with the poor children, knowing they speak the truth, unless you do so fright them that in bewilderment they seek to save themselves by a falsehood and know not into what evil they fall thereby. When you are tempted to severity, inquire well into the merits of the case, lest you do an injustice, keeping in mind the persecution of the little maid who hath saved England.” Thus Lord Christopher ceased speaking. In the years to come it was related that his speech was so affecting as to draw tears to the eyes of all, and that many a parent in Salem was known thereafter to refrain from harsh reproof of a child, because of the great physician’s words and the love that all learned to bear him during the weeks his illness forced him to remain in Salem. Regarding his earnest request that Christmas be observed by them after his irreverend fashion, they did not condemn him for his Popish tendency, but winked at it, as it were, knowing he had other virtues to counterbalance this weakness. Being altogether charmed by him, they earnestly trusted that for his own good he might come round to their way of thinking. During those few weeks his presence shed the only brightness in the panic-stricken town. While he was powerless to avert the awful condition, there were nevertheless many sad hearts which were made lighter, merely to visit him in his sick-room at the tavern. And the goodwives, finding their dainties did not please him as much as the sight of their little children, ceased not to send the former, but instead sent both. When at last he was able to leave his room, Lord Christopher went one afternoon to Deliverance’s home. Gladly he entered the forest road, thankful to leave the town behind him. The terrible trials still continued. Only that morning he had seen two persons hanged, and there was a rumour that a ship infected with smallpox had entered the harbour. He walked slowly, leaning on his stick, for he was yet very lame. The greenness and peace of the majestic forest were grateful to him. Soon he came in sight of Master Wentworth’s home. In the open doorway he saw Deliverance seated at her spinning-wheel, singing as she guided the thread. Already the roses bloomed again in the little maid’s face, and never was heart so free from sorrow as hers, save for that touch of yearning which came to her whenever her glance rested on her father, who, since his illness, was gentler and quieter than ever, seldom entering the still-room, and devoting many hours to sitting on the stoop, dreaming in the sunshine.