John sat in the plush chair, almost lost in the cushions, for it had been designed for larger men than he. He closed his eyes and smiled. God had a role for him to play, after all.

Purity had no idea what Verily Cooper’s plan was. All she knew was that Quill hated it, and if Quill hated it, she had to like it. Besides, she could see plainly that Verily Cooper had no ill intent toward her, nor Alvin, though he was in chains because of her. Still, it wasn’t easy for her to sit beside these men that she had accused. If she had known when she made her charges where they would lead... She tried to explain this to them.

“We know that,” said Verily Cooper. “Don’t think twice about it.”

“Where’s the food?” said Alvin. “We only got a little while to eat.”

“I don’t know why you’re helping me,” said Purity.

“He’s not,” said Alvin. “He’s trying to change the world.”

“Alvin has trouble with authority,” said Verily. “He doesn’t like it when somebody else is in charge.”

“I want somebody to be in charge of getting me something to eat. This table is starting to look mighty tasty.”

At that point the bailiff approached and asked them if they wanted to eat down in the jail, separately, or right there at the defense table, with a picnic lunch donated by several of the ladies of Cambridge, including his own wife.

“What extraordinary kindness,” said Verily.

The bailiff grinned. “My wife was on the commons yesterday. She thinks you’re Galahad. Or Percival.”

“Will you thank her for me? For all of us?”

Soon the table was spread with bread, cheese, and summer fruit, and Alvin set to eating like a teenager. Purity had a much harder time working up an appetite, though once she had the taste of pears and cheese in her mouth, she found she was hungrier than she had thought.

“I don’t know,” said Purity, “why you should ever forgive me.”

“Oh, we forgive you,” said Alvin. “We more than forgive you. Verily, here, he’s downright obsessed with you.”

Verily only smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Alvin’s feeling out of sorts,” he said. “He doesn’t like jails.”

“Have you been in jail before?” asked Purity.

“He was acquitted of all charges,” said Verily. “Proving that I’m a clever lawyer.”

“Proving I was innocent,” said Alvin. “An advantage I don’t have this time.”

Only now did Verily show annoyance. “If you think you’re guilty, why did you plead innocent?” he said sharply.

“I’m not guilty of witchcraft,” said Alvin. “Under a ‘strict reading’ or whatever. But the things Mistress Purity said about me, well, you and I both know they’re true.” As if to demonstrate it, he peeled the manacle from his right hand like it was made of clay.

Purity gasped. She had never seen such power. Even hearing Arthur Stuart’s account on the riverbank, she had not realized how effortlessly Alvin worked his will with iron. No incantations, no sign of strain.