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Ronald’s shoulders slumped. He sighed and fought off tears. He was at a loss. He asked his host for a mug of beer. When Samuel returned with the brew, Ronald had recovered his composure. After a long draft he asked Samuel the nature of the evidence used against his wife.

“I am loath to say,” Samuel said.

“But why?” Ronald asked. He studied his friend and could see his discomfiture. Ronald’s curiosity mounted. He hadn’t thought to ask Jonathan about the evidence. “Surely I have a right to know.”

“Indeed,” Samuel said, but still he hesitated.

“Please,” Ronald said. “I trust it will help me understand this wretched affair.”

“Perhaps it is best if we visit my good friend Reverend Cotton Mather,” Samuel said. He stood up. “He has more experience in the affairs of the invisible world. He will know how to advise you.”

“I bow to your discretion,” Ronald said as he got to his feet.

They took Samuel’s carriage and went directly to the Old North Church. An inquiry with a charwoman told them that Reverend Mather was at his home on the corner of Middle Street and Prince Street. Since the destination was close, they walked. It was also convenient to leave the horse and carriage in Charles Square in front of the church.

Samuel’s knock was answered by a youthful maidservant who showed them into the parlor. Reverend Mather appeared posthaste and greeted them effusively. Samuel explained the nature of their visit.

“I see,” Reverend Mather said. He motioned to chairs and they all sat down.

Ronald eyed the cleric. He’d met him before. He was younger than Ronald and Samuel, having graduated from Harvard in 1678, seven years after they had. Age notwithstanding, he was already evidencing some of the physical changes Ronald saw in Samuel and for the same reasons. He’d put on weight. His nose was red and slightly enlarged, and his face had a doughy consistency. Yet his eyes sparkled with intelligence and fiery resolve.

“You have my loving solicitude for your tribulations,” Reverend Mather said to Ronald. “God’s ways are often inscrutable for us mortals. Beyond your personal torment I am deeply troubled about the events in Salem Town and Salem Village. The populace has been overcome by an unruly and turbulent spirit, and I fear that events are spinning out of control.”

“At the moment my concern is for my wife,” Ronald said. He’d not come for a sermon.

“As it should be,” Reverend Mather said. “But I think it is important for you to understand that we – the clergy and the civil authorities - must think of the congregation as a whole. I have expected the devil to appear in our midst, and the only consolation about this demonic affair is now, thanks to your wife, we know where.” “I want to know the evidence used against my wife,” Ronald said.

“And I shall show it to you,” Reverend Mather said. “Provided that you will keep its nature a secret, since we fear its general revelation would surely inflame the distress and disquietude in Salem even more than it currently is.”

“But what if I choose to appeal the conviction?” Ronald demanded.

“Once you see the evidence you will not choose to do so,” Reverend Mather said. “Trust me in this. Do I have your word?”

“You have my word,” Ronald said. “Provided my right to appeal is not forsaken.”

They stood up in unison. Reverend Mather led the way to a flight of stone steps. After he lit a taper, they began the descent into the cellar.

“I have discussed this evidence at length with my father, Increase Mather,” Reverend Mather said over his shoulder. “We concur that it has inordinate importance for future generations as material proof of the existence of the invisible world. Accordingly, we believe its rightful place should be Harvard College. As you know he is currently the acting president of the institution.”

Ronald didn’t respond. At the moment his mind was incapable of dealing with such academic issues.

“Both myself and my father also agree that there has been too much reliance in the Salem witch trials on spectral evidence alone,” Reverend Mather continued. They reached the bottom of the stairs, and while Samuel and Ronald waited, he proceeded to light wall sconces. He spoke as he moved about the cellar: “We are much concerned that this reliance could very well draw innocent people into the maelstrom.”

Ronald started to protest. For the moment he didn’t have the patience to listen to these larger concerns, but Samuel restrained him by laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Elizabeth’s evidence is the kind of real evidence we’d like to see in every case,” Reverend Mather said as he waved Ronald and Samuel to follow him to a large, locked cupboard. “But it is also terribly inflammatory. It was at my discretion that it was removed from Salem and brought here after her trial. I have never witnessed a stronger evidence of the devil’s power and ability to do mischief.”

“Please, Reverend,” Ronald said at last. “I should like to return to Salem forthwith. If you will just show me what it is, I can be on my way.”

“Patience, my good man,” Reverend Mather said as he drew a key from his waistcoat. “The nature of this evidence is such that you must be prepared. It is shocking indeed. For that reason it had been my suggestion that your wife’s trial be held behind closed doors and the jury be sworn to secrecy on their honor. It was a precaution not to deny her due process but to prevent public hysteria which would only have played into the devil’s hand.”

“I am prepared,” Ronald said with a touch of exasperation.

“Christ the Redeemer be with you,” Reverend Mather said as he slipped the key into the lock. “Brace yourself.”

Reverend Mather unlocked the cabinet. Then, with both hands he swung open the doors and stepped back for Ronald to see.

Ronald’s breath escaped in a gasp and his eyes momentarily bulged. His hand involuntarily covered his mouth in horror and dismay. He swallowed hard. He tried to speak, but his voice momentarily failed him. He cleared his throat.

“Enough!” he managed and averted his eyes.

Reverend Mather closed the cabinet doors and locked them.

“Is it certain that this is Elizabeth’s handiwork?” Ronald asked weakly.

“Beyond any doubt,” Samuel said. “Not only was it seized by Sheriff George Corwin from your property, but Elizabeth freely admitted responsibility.”

“Good Lord,” Ronald said. “Surely this is the work of the devil. Yet I knoweth in my heart that Elizabeth is no witch.”

“It is hard for a man to believe his wife to be in covenant with the devil,” Samuel said. “But this evidence, combined with the testimony of several of the afflicted girls who stated that Elizabeth’s specter tormented them, is compelling proof. I am sorry, dear friend, but Elizabeth is a witch.”

“I am sorely distressed,” Ronald said.

Samuel and Cotton Mather exchanged knowing, sympathetic glances. Samuel motioned toward the stairs.

“Perhaps we should repair to the parlor,” Reverend Mather said. “I believe we all could use a mug of ale.”