At once Woodward followed him, desirous to contain whatever damage the preacher might do. Bidwell entered too, as well as Johnstone, while Paine seemed to have come to the end of his interest in the matter and remained on horseback. The gaol's dim interior was illuminated only by the milky light that came through the roof's hatch, which Woodward himself had opened that morning.
Matthew and Rachel had heard the commotion, Paine's speech, and the voices of the men outside the door, so they knew what to expect. Exodus Jerusalem first paused before Matthew's cage and peered through the bars. 'Who art thee?'
'My clerk,' Woodward said, his voice all but vanished.
'He is present to keep watch o'er the witch?'
'I'm present,' Matthew said, 'because I have been sentenced for three days due to an incident I regret.'
'What?' Jerusalem pursed his lips. 'A magistrate's clerk hast become a criminal? This too must be the witch's doing, to undermine the trial.' Before Matthew could reply, Jerusalem's head swivelled toward the other cell and his gaze fell upon Rachel, who sat on her bench with her sackcloth cloak pulled around her but her face exposed.
There was a long silence.
'Ah, yes,' Jerusalem said at last. 'I see a deep pool of sin in that one.' Rachel gave no reply, but she did return his stare.
'Look how she glowers,' Jerusalem said. 'Like a hot flame, eager to burn mine heart to a cinder. Wouldst thou delight in flying me to Hell on the wings of a crow, woman? Or wouldst thou be content to drive nails through mine eyes and split mine tongue in two?' She didn't answer, choosing to shift her gaze to the straw. 'There! Dost thou see? The evil in her quakes before me, and she cannot bear to look longer upon mine face.'
'You are half right, ' Rachel said.
'A taunt, it seems! She's a witty bitch.' Jerusalem walked past Matthew's cell and stood next to the bars of the other cage. 'What is thy name?'
'A witty bitch,' she answered. 'You have already named me.'
'Her name is Rachel Howarth,' Bidwell said, standing behind the preacher. 'Needless to say, she is very uncooperative.'
'They always are.' Jerusalem curled his long, slender fingers around the bars. 'As I say, I have had much experience with witches. I know the evil that hath eaten their hearts and blackened their souls. Oh yes, I know.' He nodded, his eyes fixed on Rachel. 'This one hath committed two murders, is that correct?'
'Yes. She first murdered our Anglican reverend and then her own husband,' Bidwell answered.
'No, thou art wrong. This witch became the bride of Satan when she spilled the blood of a reverend. She hath also bewitched thy crops and the minds of thy citizens?'
'Yes.'
'Conjecture,' Matthew had to say. 'So far unproven.'
Jerusalem looked sharply at him. 'What sayest thou?'
'The evidence is not yet complete,' Matthew said. 'Therefore the charges against Madam Howarth are still unproven.'
'Madam Howarth, didst thou say?' Jerusalem gave a slight, chilly smile. 'Thou dost refer to the witch with respect?'
Woodward managed to speak: 'My clerk has a liberal mind.'
'Thy clerk may well have a diseased mind, made infirm by the power of this witch. It is quite dangerous to leave him here, in such close quarters. Wouldst there not be another place to confine him?'
'No,' Bidwell said. 'Nowhere else.'
'Then the witch should be confined elsewhere. In strict solitude.'
'I would have to protest that action,' Matthew said quickly. 'As the trial is taking place here, it is Madam Howarth's right to be present during the questioning of witnesses.'
The preacher was silent, staring at Matthew. Then he said, 'Gentlemen, I fear we are witnesses to the corruption of a young man's soul. No clean Christian wouldst protect the rights of a witch.' He let that sentence linger before he went on. 'It is a witch's evil desire to drag into Hell as many persons as demonically possible. In the Old World, entire towns were burned to the ground and their citizens hanged because they were corrupted by a single witch.'
'That may be so,' Matthew replied, 'but this is the New World.'
'Old World or New, the eternal battle between God and Satan remaineth the same. There is no middle ground. Either thou art a Christian soldier on one side ... or a pawn of the Devil on the other. Where dost thou stand?'
It was a nice trap, Matthew realized. He also, for the first time, realized the convolutions of warped logic that had been brought to bear against Rachel. 'If I say I stand on the side of truth,' he answered, 'does that make me a soldier or a pawn?'
Jerusalem gave a quiet laugh. 'Now here, gentlemen, thy see the beginnings of Adam's fall: to emulate the serpent, first in thought, then in word, and finally in deed. Young man, be wary. Executions allow no such slippery maneuvers.'
'If you please!' Woodward rasped. 'My clerk is not on trial!'
'Thy clerk,' Jerusalem said, 'may no longer be truly thine.' He directed his attention once more to Rachel. 'Witch!' he said, with the thunder returning to his voice. 'Hast thou willed a spell on this young man's tender soul?'
'I've willed no spell on any soul,' she replied. 'Tender or otherwise.'
'Time shall tell, I think. Oh, thou art a brassy whore, full of lies and enchantments! But thou art caged now, art thy not? And every day's dusk is one less day remaining for thy sin to take root!' He looked at Bidwell. 'This one shalt not go easy to the gallows, that is a surety.'
'Her death will be by burning,' Bidwell told him. 'The magistrate's decreed it.'
'Ahhhhh, burning.' Jerusalem spoke it with such reverence it might be the very balm of life. 'Yes, that would be suitable. Still, even ashes need the rite of sanctimonity.' He gave Rachel another chilly smile. 'Enemy mine,' he said, 'thy face changeth from town to town, but thou art always the same.' Then, to Bidwell again, 'I have seen enough now. Mine sister and nephew wait for me. Art we free to camp on some available plot of land?'
'Yes,' Bidwell said, with only a minor hesitation. 'I'll direct you.'
'I'm against it!' Johnstone spoke up. 'Is there nothing I can say to dissuade you, Robert?'
'I think we need Jerusalem as much as we need the magistrate.'
'You'll think differently when he sets off another riot! Good day to you!' Johnstone, obviously angry and frustrated, limped out of the gaol with the aid of his cane.
'Alan will come 'round,' Bidwell said to the preacher. 'He's our schoolmaster, but he's also a sensible man.'
'I trust thy schoolmaster is not being led astray in the same fashion as this clerk. Well sir, I am at thy disposal.'
'All right, then. Come with me. But we'll have no further . . . uh . . . disturbances, I hope?'
'Disturbance is not mine cause, sir. I am here in the cause of deliverance.'
Bidwell motioned for Jerusalem to proceed from the gaol, and then he followed. Just short of the doorway, he turned back toward Woodward. 'Magistrate? I suggest you come along, if you wish to ride in my carriage.'
Woodward nodded. He cast a sad-eyed look at Matthew and said weakly, 'I shall have to rest, and so won't be back before the morning. Are you all right?'
'I am. You should ask Dr. Shields for another tonic, I think.'
'I plan to.' He stared grimly at Rachel. 'Madam?' he said. 'Do not believe that because my voice is weak and my body impoverished that I shall not continue this trial to the best of my ability. The next witness will be heard on schedule.' He took two steps toward the door and hesitated again. 'Matthew?' he said, in an agonized whisper. 'Take care that your senses not become as feeble as my health.' Then he turned away and followed Bidwell.
Matthew sat down on his bench. The arrival of Exodus Jerusalem added a highly combustible element to this tinderbox. But Matthew found himself most presently concerned about the magistrate's failing health. It was clear
