Something in his smile arrested Abigail’s attention. Suddenly, a light of recognition breaking over her face, she put forth her hands, crying joyfully: “Ye be Ronald. Ye be Deliverance’s brother. She telled me to look for ye, but I ne’er suspicioned it to be ye. But when ye smiled I thought o’ her, and now I have remembrance o’ having seen ye in Salem Town.” Young Wentworth made no reply save by a groan. “Long have I misdoubted these trials for witchery,” he muttered. “It tempts one to atheism. She, Deliverance, a witch, to be cast into prison! a light-hearted, careless child! God himself will pour out His righteous wrath upon her judges if they so much as let a hair of her head be harmed. They have convicted her falsely, falsely! Come,” he cried, turning fiercely upon Abigail, “come, we will rouse the town! We shall see if such things can be done in the name of the law. We shall see.” Now such anger had been in his eyes as to have burned away his tears, but all at once his fierceness died and his voice broke. “Did they treat her harshly,” he asked,—“my little sister, who since her mother died, has been a lone lassie despite her father and brother. Tell me again, again that it be not until to-morrow,—that one day yet of grace remains.” So Abigail told him all she knew. But when he desired to see the letter she was to give to the Cavalier, she protested:— “I promised not to read it myself nor to let any other body, except him, for Deliverance said it must be kept secret, she being engaged on a service for the King. She said when I found ye, ye would go with me to look for the fine gentleman.” “Very well, we will go,” he answered briefly, and took her hand, seeing that it would only trouble her then to insist upon having the letter, but resolving to obtain possession of it at the first opportunity. “We will go to the Governor’s house, first,” he added, “and see if he knows the whereabouts of any such person. If not, then I must read the letter and find the clue to unravel this sad mystery.” Master Ronald walked on rapidly, holding her hand in so tight a grasp that she was obliged to run to keep up with him. They soon left the Common and entered a street. There were no sidewalks then in Boston Town. The roadways, paved with pebbles, extended from house to house. They took the middle of the street where the walking was smoothest. Once Master Ronald paused to consider a sun-dial. “It lacks o’er an hour of ten,” he said; “we shall be obliged to wait. The new Governor is full of mighty high-flown notions fetched from England, and will see no one before ten, though it be a matter of life and death. It sorts not with his dignity to be disturbed.” He glanced down at Abigail as he finished speaking, and for the first time took notice that she was tired and pale.