Ye Lyttle Salem Maide: A Story of WitchcraftMackie, Pauline Bradford
History
Ye Lyttle Salem Maide: A Story of Witchcraft
Mackie, Pauline Bradford
Salem (Mass.) -- History -- Colonial period, ca. 1600-1775 -- Fiction; Trials (Witchcraft) -- Fiction
“The Lord have mercy on this evil world!” he said, wagging his head
portentously. “Alack, alack! the times grow worse. What manner of men are
these lean, sour Puritans that they would e’en put their babes to death
for witchery? As pretty and simple a maid was she as any I e’er set eyes
on, not excepting my sweetest daughter over the seas.”
“Ay,” said the student, raising his white face from his hands, “as sweet
a maid as God e’er breathed life into. But I say this,” he cried, raising
his voice shrilly, in his excitement, “that if they harm her they shall
suffer for it.”
“Not a hair shall they hurt, and God grant me grace to live to get
there,” cried the invalid. “Is my word to be accounted of naught,” and he
tapped his breast, “mine? Oh, ho! let any dare to deny or disregard it,
and he shall rue it.”
“Sir,” said Abigail, approaching him timidly, “Deliverance Wentworth
sends ye this.”
He took the package and untied the tow string which bound it. There were
two papers, one the sealed parchment Abigail had found in the still-room
and the other the letter Deliverance had written.
When the Cavalier saw the parchment, he gave an inarticulate sound and
clutched it to his breast, kissed it and waved it wildly.
“By my troth!” he cried, “the little maid whom they would hang, hath
saved England.”
In his excitement he rose, but no sooner had he put his foot on the
floor, than he groaned and fell back on the bed. His face became so
scarlet that Master Ronald started up, thinking a leech should be sent
for to bleed him, but the sufferer waved him back, and lay down uttering
praise and thanksgiving, save when he paused for groans so terrible, that
Abigail jumped at every one. When he had exhausted himself and grown
quiet, she, feeling it safe to approach him, summoned up courage to hand
him Deliverance’s letter, which had fallen from the bed to the floor.
“Ye forgot her letter,” she said reproachfully.
As the Cavalier read, he swore mighty oaths under his breath, and before
he finished, the tears were falling on the little letter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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