Foreman, Thomas Fisk, &c.

To the reading of this paper Ralph Lucy made no reply save this, even more gloomily than before:

‘All their repentance will avail nothing to my Lois, nor will it bring back her life.’

Then Captain Holdernesse spoke once more, and said that on the day of the general fast, appointed to be held all through New England, when the meeting-houses were crowded, an old, old man with white hair had stood up in the place in which he was accustomed to worship, and had handed up into the pulpit a written confession, which he had once or twice essayed to read for himself, acknowledging his great and grievous error in the matter of the witches of Salem, and praying for the forgiveness of God and of his people, ending with an entreaty that all then present would join with him in prayer that his past conduct might not bring down the displeasure of the Most High upon his country, his family, or himself. That old man, who was no other than Justice Sewall, remained standing all the time that his confession was read; and at the end he said, ‘The good and gracious God be pleased to save New England and me and my family.’ And then it came out that, for years past, Judge Sewall had set apart a day for humiliation and prayer, to keep fresh in his mind a sense of repentance and sorrow for the part he had borne in these trials, and that this solemn anniversary he was pledged to keep as long as he lived, to show his feeling of deep humiliation.

Ralph Lucy’s voice trembled as he spoke:

‘All this will not bring my Lois to life again, or give me back the hope of my youth.’

But--as Captain Holdernesse shook his head (for what word could he say, or how dispute what was so evidently true?)--Ralph added, ‘What is the day, know you, that this justice has set apart?’

‘The twenty-ninth of April.’

‘Then on that day will I, here at Barford in England, join my prayer as long as I live with the repentant judge, that his sin may be blotted out and no more had in remembrance. She would have willed it so.’