How could she have missed it? It was her knack, to see what people intended, what they were about to do. Yet she saw no further than his smile the first time they met, saw nothing but his genuine love and sympathy and concern for her. How could her knack have failed her?

Was it what Quill had said to her, in one of his many rambling discourses on Satan? That Satan was not loyal and did not uphold his disciples?

Why, then, would she see the truth now?

Or was it the truth? Was Satan now deceiving her into thinking she saw hatred where love truly existed?

There was no way out of this circle of doubt. There was no firm ground to hold to. Alvin Smith, who admitted to witchery, was kind and forgiving to her though she did him great harm. Quill, who was the servant of God in opposing witchery, twisted every word she said to make her bear false witness against Smith and his friends. And now he seemed to want her to hang. That was how it seemed. Could the truth be so simple? Was it possible that things were exactly as they seemed?

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Quill softly.

“Do you?” she murmured.

“You’re thinking that you want to recant your testimony against Alvin Smith and make the whole trial go away. I know you’re thinking that because everybody does, just before the trial.”

She said nothing. For she could sense the malice coming from him like stink from an untended baby.

“It wouldn’t go away,” said Quill. “I already have your testimony under oath. All that would happen is that perjury would be added to your crimes. And worse—having repented, you would be seen to have returned to Satan, trying to conceal his acts. Indeed, you already seemed to be concealing the other witches in Cambridge. You could not have expected to protect your friends and incriminate only the strangers, could you? Were you that naive? Were you so caught up in the snares and nets of Satan that you believed you could hide from God?”

“I’ve hidden nothing.” Even as she said it, she knew the futility of denial.

“I have here a list of the professors and lecturers at Cambridge who are known to create an atmosphere of hostility toward faith and piety in their classrooms. You are not alone in denouncing them—my colleagues and I have compiled this list over a period of years. Emerson, for instance, scoffs at the very idea of the existence of witches and witchery. You like Emerson, don’t you? I’ve heard that you were especially attentive in spying outside his classroom.”

“It wasn’t spying, I was given the right to listen,” said Purity.

“You heard him,” said Quill. “But my question is, did you see him? At a witches’ sabbath?”

“I never saw a witches’ sabbath, so how could I have seen him at one?”

“Don’t chop logic with me,” whispered Quill. “The syllogism is false because your testimony has been false. You told me about one witches’ sabbath yourself.”