Captain Carteret and I clasped hands when we saw that the enemy had been repelled for the time. They hardly would renew the fight for a few hours, I thought, and we would have a chance to rest and get something to eat, for it was now afternoon, and we all knew that breakfast had been a long way back. So leaving a sentinel on guard at each face of the palisade, we sent the other men away. Carteret and I went to his quarters.

As the door opened I saw Simon standing in the centre of the room.

“Have you been here since the fighting began?” asked the Captain of him.

“I have,” answered Simon. “My life was not my own to lose it by a stray bullet. When my oath is fulfilled I will fight.”

“There was need of every man,” replied Carteret sternly, “oaths or no oaths. I like not cowards, even though they come with warrants from the King.”

Simon made no response.

“Now, as concerns this matter,” continued the commander, “which we had to break off when the battle began. 283Sir George Keith, and a braver man there never lived, was my boyhood friend, Amherst, and I am much grieved to learn that he is no more. I would have served him living, and, if I can I will do so dead. It seems, Amherst, you are interested in the affair, the nature of which is not clear to me. Let us see what is in the royal warrant,” and he drew the parchment from his pocket.

“What is it about, Simon, for I am no hand at the law.”

Thereupon Simon related the tale, as he had it from his master, I suppose, of how I had fought on the side of Duke Monmouth, and had been adjudged a traitor, but had escaped ere I could be sold to slavery. As Simon progressed I saw the Captain’s face grow grave and stern, for, it seemed, he was a great friend at court, and all his people had been against Monmouth. Therefore he had little liking for a rebel like myself, and one who was accused of treason.

“What have you to say?” asked Carteret, when Simon had finished.

“Much,” I replied, and I began to think.

Truly I seemed to be in sore straits. If there was but some way out of it with honor, most gladly would I have welcomed it. For I could not let myself be taken now, and separated from Lucille, just when I had found her again. If I was sent back to England under arrest as a traitor (though I never admitted I was one, for I had no mind to betray my own country) I might count on a long imprisonment, if not death, and I would never see my 284love more. Then I hoped that a plan of escape might come to me, and so, after all, foil Simon.

“The matter need not be decided now,” I said as though I had my case all prepared, but only waited convenience to try it. “There is no occasion for haste, as I promise I will not run out among the red devils howling for our scalps. Let it rest.”

“Suppose you are killed?” suggested Simon. “What then becomes of the warrant?”

“Why, you may keep it, Simon,” I said. “There is no law that will reach the dead.”

“But I am under oath to a dead man to see the warrant properly served on a live man,” expostulated the sailor, “and you are the person mentioned.”

“’Tis a serious matter,” spoke up the Captain, “and one, the like of which I never knew before. To be strictly within the law I must arrest you, though you need not hand over your sword, nor suffer imprisonment. For we need your counsel and stout arm in the defense of the block. The Indians have only tasted blood, and want more. Our stubborn defense has roused them to a pitch of fury, and they will soon be swarming about our ears again.”

“Then I am to consider myself a prisoner,” I said, as calmly as I could; for I did not like Captain Carteret’s easy compliance with Simon’s demands.

“A prisoner, if you please,” replied the Captain. “The other details may wait until the more pressing matter of 285the Indian attack is settled. After that we may have no need of captors or prisoners, either.”

“’Tis very likely,” I said grimly, “seeing that we have but seventy fighting men left to stand against more than seven hundred.”

But I was not as easy as I pretended about the matter of the royal warrant. I knew it would not dared be ignored by Carteret, and Simon would see to it that the Captain did not fail to execute it.

“Yes, it is necessary that you be considered under arrest,” went on the commander, “though never did a jailer serve a warrant with less liking for the task. For, mark you, Amherst, I had a liking for you as soon as you and the sweet maid came in, and the affection has grown when I see how well you can fight,” and all the while he was turning the document over and over in his hand, as if he had hold of an unpleasant object. He looked on both sides of the parchment, but made no move to open it and learn the contents. Simon was watching both of us with a pleased light in his eyes.

“Since then you are under arrest,” proceeded the Captain, “I believe it is in accord with the law that I read the warrant to you. I am not very well versed in legal lore, but, mayhap, I can make some small shift at this.”

Thereupon Carteret, assuming a dignified air, that was in strange keeping with his powder-grimed face, and his 286battle-torn clothing, opened the warrant. He read over the first few lines to himself, and then burst out with:

“Providence preserve us! But this is more than passing wonderful and strange! Can it be that I read aright?”

And while Simon watched him eagerly, and I with fear at what was to come, the Captain read what was written, skipping half a dozen words, every now and then.

“‘Warrant--hum--for one Captain Edward Amherst--hum--did on divers occasions--hum--practice the said detestable arts, wickedly and feloniously and traitorously, upon and against--hum--the deponents John Bly, Deliverance Hobbs and Benjamin Proctor.’ What is this? ‘Wherefore, that is to say, the said--in manner following--hum--is hereby charged with witchcraft.’

“Witchcraft!” he fairly shouted at the end. “Witchcraft? Has that vile malady come among us?”

“Witchcraft?” faltered Simon, his face white with fear.

“Witchcraft?” I cried out, wondering what would happen next.

“Witchcraft? Who talks of witchcraft?” asked a sweet voice behind us, and we turned to behold Lucille, who had come in unobserved.

“Aye, witchcraft,” replied Captain Carteret, the first to recover from the surprise. “’Tis little, madame, that you can have to do with this crime, which makes the bravest and boldest to shudder in fear. For the evil repute of it 287and the terror it has wrought, has spread to Elizabeth town, even from Salem.”

“Perchance I may have more to do with it than at first appears,” said Lucille. Then I happened to remember something of a certain document she had.

“Let us consider,” went on Carteret, moving a little away from me, and taking care not to look me in the eye. “Simon, you had this warrant, and when you gave it to me I supposed it was for treason against His Most Gracious Majesty, as you stated. ’Tis so endorsed on the outside. How came you by it?”

“From Sir George Keith,” answered Simon, “as he lay dying on the sands, slain----”

“Nay, not slain,” I interrupted sternly, “speak the truth. Not slain, but killed in a fair fight, though it was not my sword that dealt the fatal blow.”

“When he lay dying,” went on Simon, correcting himself, but, otherwise, not heeding me, “he called me, his bond servant, to him, and made me swear an oath that I would take the warrant, and following Captain Amherst, command the first King’s representative I met, to serve it. This I did, for Sir George obtained permission from Captain Amherst, that I might accompany him to this place.”

“Said he what the warra............