Free Witch Hunt by Devin O'Branagan Page A

clothes.”
    “I appreciate it.” Jansen rifled through the bag and pulled out the pipe and a measure of the tobacco, which he offered to William. “Since I already have one, would you like to use this?”
    William was grateful. “I would. Thank you.”
    “William performed an old folk remedy to rid me of my affliction,” Jansen said, and winked at Peter. “I owe him.”
    “Did it work?” Peter asked.
    “Too soon to tell.” Jansen handed William two apples and two pears. “Consider these payment for your services.”
    William took them reluctantly. He looked at Alida. “I don’t want to be rude, but do you think that maybe you could take these to my wife and daughter? They’re here, in this prison … if you wouldn’t find it too much trouble …”
    Alida studied him with her haunted eyes. “You keep those. I’ll be happy to take them some fruit of their own.”
    William smiled. “Thank you. Margaret and Prissy Hawthorne.”
    “I’ll do it this afternoon.”
    “Thank you. Very kind.” Had he ever thought it possible to be so terribly grateful for a few pieces of fruit? William moved to a far corner of the cell to allow the family some relative privacy, and to savor the gifts of their generosity.
     

     
    “I’ve arranged to escape on the way to the trial,” Jansen quietly announced to William the day before they were to be taken back to Salem for their hearings. “The transport will be waylaid by some of my men. There’s a boat waiting in the harbor. Will you come with me?”
    “My wife and children?”
    Jansen shook his head. “I thought about it, but there’s no way it can be arranged.”
    William shrugged.
    Jansen nodded. “Of course.” He paused. “So, do you have a strategy? I’ve heard if you plead guilty they won’t hang you, at least.”
    “I’m not going to plead at all.”
    “Not plead? But they’ll force you to plead.”
    “They can try.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “If I don’t plead, they can’t take my land from me. I have nothing else to leave my children. They’ll have no future otherwise.”
    “But …” Jansen’s voice died off as the full measure of what William had said settled into his mind. He felt a wave of respect for the other man. “God, William, you’re a better man than I.” He took a piece of paper and pen from Alida’s latest package and scribbled his name and address on it. “Here. Whoever of your family survives this should come to New York, and I’ll do what I can.”
    William took the paper. “I’ll give it to Bridget. Expect at least her and Phip.”
    Jansen nodded. Unfamiliar emotions flooded him, but he didn’t know how to express them. Finally he said, “I think your spell worked. It’s been a month since I’ve had a fit. I don’t seem to have the affliction anymore.”
     

     
    Jansen’s escape was successful, and William stood mute before the court.
    The first of his family to be brought to trial in Salem, William refused to plead. He was taken from the courtroom and interrogated by the magistrate in a holding cell.
    “Why do you not plead?” Sheldon asked.
    For the first time in months, William felt a sense of control over his own fate. “If I don’t plead, your honor, you can’t seize my land. It’s the law.”
    Sheldon, his chubby face already red, began to perspire. “You cannot refuse to plead to the charge.”
    “Yes, I can.” William was filled with a sense of deep calm.
    Sheldon began to rant. “We have ways to make you plead. You’ll not get away with this. We’ll break your fool’s silence. You’ll not embarrass this court.”
    William smiled at the man’s anger. It felt good to turn the tables of frustration and impotence. “Do what you must, because that’s just what I intend to do.”
    After Sheldon stormed from the cell, William prepared the deed that would convey his land to Bridget and Phip.
     

     
    Bridget, who had come to the meetinghouse that morning for the beginning of