Free The Sacrifice by Kathleen Benner Duble Page B

back of the wagon. She reached into the wagon and touched Dorothy’s cheek and then Abigail’s. “Papa will ride with you now,” she said. “I will send Paul to tell Grandpappy what has happened. Aunt Elizabeth will be there, and I shall do everything in my power to free you.”
    Dorothy continued to cry, but Abigail, seeing the fear in Mama’s face, decided that the best thing to do was to be brave for her.
    “Worry not, Mama,” Abigail said. “I will be strong, and I will take care of Dorothy.”
    “You are not witches,” Mama said, her voice shaking. “Remember that you are innocent and shall soon be free.
    “I love you,” she added in a whisper.
    Abigail heard the crack of the whip, and the horses moved forward. Dorothy buried her face in her skirts, but Abigail watched as Mama’s figuregrew smaller and smaller, until at last she could see her no more.
    She remembered envying the girls from Salem Village their sunny ride to Andover. She had gotten her wish. She too was making a trip.
But to what?
she wondered.
    The ride was eighteen miles, and the sun was hot on Abby’s back as they rode along the rutted road. The wagon swayed from side to side, throwing her and Dorothy back and forth. Abby wished for the ride to be over, yet at the same time, she knew the end meant the Salem Town jail.
    Papa had saddled a horse and came galloping up behind them. He rode next to them now, saying nothing. Abigail knew he meant well, but the truth of his weakness washed over her, and his presence brought her no comfort. She knew there was little he was capable of doing to help them.
    Dorothy spent the ride hunched over, crying. Abigail wished she could think of something to say that would quiet and reassure her sister, but she could think of nothing.
    At last they began to see small farms and houses from which smoke curled lazily in the warm summer air.
    “We are near to Salem Town, girls,” Papa said. “Prepare yourselves.”
    As they entered the town, Abigail looked about her. In spite of her fear, she was curious, for she had never before been in such a big town with so many people. The wagon took a turn, moving east toward the harbor. As they approached the ocean, Abigail took a deep breath of the salt air, amazed at its smell.
    The street widened, and suddenly the wagon came upon the wharf. The scene before them was full of life and activity.
    Ships were at the dock. Wagons were unloading. The sound of iron against an anvil rang out. People hustled and bustled about.
    “Look!” someone cried, pointing toward Abigail and her sister. “Is it witches from afar?”
    Instantly, everyone moved away from the wagon, looking in fear at Dorothy and Abigail. Someone picked up a stone and hurled it at them. It bounced harmlessly against the wagon’s side but caused Abigail to jump.
    “Stand away from the wagon and let us pass,” Constable Ballard yelled out.
    “I’ll stand away,” one man jeered. “You’ll not see me near a witch.”
    At this, the townsfolk began to boo and hiss at the sisters. Dorothy covered her eyes with her tied hands. But Abigail continued to look out at the crowd. How could they act like this toward them? They had not even been proven guilty!
    “Look how she stares,” one woman cried out. “She means us evil.”
    “Abigail,” Papa whispered, “lower your eyes, or I fear there will be trouble. Please. I do not want you hurt.”
    Abigail did as he asked, but her heart was filled with fury at these people who thought she was guilty without even hearing what she had to say in her defense, and at Papa for refusing to let her fight back the only way she could. And she was angry at herself for complying with his wishes and not defending herself.
    At last, the wagon came to a stop at a massive wooden building by the water. Constable Ballard came down from the wagon and walked to the backto help Abigail and Dorothy to the ground.
    Abigail’s heart quickened as she looked up at the forbidding