“All these sacrifices,” said Cooper, “you’d make them gladly, if you believed in the cause.”

“Are you accusing me of being an unbeliever?”

“Yes,” said Cooper.

“I’m a Christian!” she said. “You’re the heretics! You’re the witches!”

“Keep your voice down,” said Fink menacingly.

“I’m not a witch!” said Audubon fervently.

“You see?” said Cooper. “Now you are accusing us.”

“I’m not!” she said. “There’s no one here but you.”

“You’re a woman whose world has just turned upside down. You’re the daughter of witches. You’re angry that they were killed. You’re angry at yourself for being alive, for being part of the very society that killed them. And you’re angry at that society for not being worthy of the sacrifice.”

“I’m not judging others,” she said.

“They were supposed to build Zion here,” said Cooper. “The city of God. The place where Christ at his coming could find the righteous gathered together, waiting for him.”

“Yes,” whispered Purity.

“They even named you Purity. And yet you see that nothing is pure. The people are trying to be good, but it isn’t good enough. When Christ comes, all he’ll find here is a group of people who have done no more than to find another way to be stubble that he will have to burn.”

“No, the virtue is real, the people are good,” said Purity. “Reverend Study—”

“Virtue is real outside New England, too,” said Verily Cooper.

“Is it?” she asked. “Most people here live the commandments. Adultery is as rare as fish with feet. Murder never happens. Drunkenness can never be seen anywhere except at the docks, where sailors from other lands are permitted—and why should I defend New England to you?”

“You don’t have to,” said Cooper. “I grew up with the dream of New England all around me. In every pulpit, in every home. When someone behaved badly, when someone in authority made a mistake, we’d say, ‘What do you expect? This isn’t New England.’ When somebody was exceptionally kind or self-sacrificing, or humble and sweet, we’d say, ‘He belongs in New England,’ or ‘He’s already got his passage to Boston.’”

Purity looked at him in surprise. “Well, we’re not that good here.”

“I know,” said Cooper. “For one thing, you still hang witches and put their babies in orphanages.”

“I’m not going to cry again, if that’s what you’re hoping for,” said Purity.

“I’m hoping for something else,” said Cooper. “Come with us.”

“Verily!” said Smith. “For pete’s sake, if we wanted a woman with us we’d be traveling with Margaret! You think this girl’s ready to sleep rough?”

“Ain’t decent anyway,” said Mike Fink. “She’s a lady.”

“You needn’t worry about my going with you,” said Purity. “What kind of madman are you? Perhaps I am angry and disillusioned about the dream of purity here in New England. Why would I be any happier with you, who aren’t even as pure as we are here?”

“Because we have the one thing you’re hungry for.”