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It was half an hour before the door opened and Daniel came out. “Bess,” he said. “I want to talk wi ‘ye. Anneke - get her a swig o’ rum.”

“I don’t want any rum,” said Elizabeth. “Whatever it is, tell me at once.”

“I’faith, lovey, then I will,” Daniel said gravely. He turned away, fixing his eyes on the hearthstone. “ ‘Tis bad for us all but ‘tis worse for you, knowing how ye felt about her.”

“About
who?”
cried Elizabeth sharply.

“Mistress Anne Hutchinson, Bess. She was massacred last week at Vredeland and sixteen of her family with her.”

Anneke gave a low cry. Elizabeth said nothing. She stared at Daniel. He went on, “They’d only just come, were settling in to their new home. Mrs. Hutchinson, she didn’t believe in violence, or bearing arms. There wasn’t a gun on the place when the Indians attacked. ‘Twas the Weckquasageeks did it, Bess. Murdered all the Hutchinsons except a little lass they captured. Murdered and burned.”

“Why?” she whispered. “Why did they do it?” She sank down on a stool and buried her face in her hands, Daniel put his arm around her and she shook him off with sudden fury. “Why didn’t God protect her? She was good. Why did the Comforter not save her? Why was she hounded, persecuted, always driven from the peace and beauty that she yearned for, that she could bring to others? Hounded on to
this
i”

“I don’t know, Bess. But there’ve been Holy Martyrs before now. Mebbe she was one . . .” Daniel poured himself a noggin of rum. “That’s why these fellows came today,” Daniel went on heavily. “Oh, Toby tried to stir ‘em up, but they were busy chasing Indians on Staten Island. And now this happened to the Hutchinsons. The Weekquasageeks’re known to be friendly to the Siwanoys. Kieft has commanded an attack, tonight?”

“Attack?” repeated Elizabeth, staring at the floor. “Attack on whom?”

“Why, our Siwanoys at Petaquapan. They want me to lead ‘em.”

Anneke made a sharp motion. “Not ven they saved Danny! No, Dan, you wouldn’t do that! And Telaka forgive you for killing her vader!”

Daniel banged his great fist on the table. “By the Mass, Anneke! What can I do? We’re Dutch subjects, these are orders from our Governor!”

Anneke frowned, twisting her head from side to side, then she stooped and kissed him on the cheek. “You vill think of something, Daniel, I know. More and more wrongs do not make right,”

Lieutenant Baxter came into the kitchen with Robert, leaving the two Dutch officers in the other room.

“Well, Captain Patrick,” Baxter said. “ ‘Tis getting dusk and time we started.” He glanced at Elizabeth’s white, strained face. “You’ve told her? A horrifying thing, brings the danger home when one knows the people involved. Good thing you sent for us, Captain.”

“I didn’t,” said Daniel. “ ‘Twas Toby Feake.”

“But you killed the chief, Mianos,” said Baxter, mildly surprised.

Drunk, he thought. The big Irish captain’s face was flushed and sweating. He looked confused. Understandable perhaps. The Hutchinson massacre was enough to addle anybody. “You’ll guide us to the Siwanoy Fort, now!” said Baxter in a voice of clear command, designed to penetrate Patrick’s daze.

“Not sure of the way - ” said Daniel slowly. ‘Specially at night ‘Tis a long march through forest.”

Robert stared at his friend. “But, Dan, surely you - ”

Anneke interrupted. “Ve never go to Petuquapan It is far across a river. Daniel vould get lost.”

They saw Baxter’s face darken with puzzled suspicion. Daniel’s wits cleared, and he saw a way out. He straightened and spoke with decision. “There’s an Indian at Tomac village’d guide us, ‘d do anything for wampum and is no friend to the Siwanoy. I’ll go get him.
^!
Twon’t take long.”

Baxter was relieved. “Aye, fetch him quickly, then.”

Robert looked from Baxter to Daniel. “You can’t mean Wasobibbi, Dan?”

“Aye,” said Patrick. And the glare he sent Robert quelled further questions. Baxter paid no attention to Robert’s interruption. During the previous conversation in the other room. Baxter had taken Robert’s measure. An ineffectual man, obviously guided by Patrick. Baxter returned to the Dutch officers, while Daniel walked off towards Totomack Cove.

“Why is Dan getting Wasobibbi, wife?” said Robert querulously, sitting down by Elizabeth. “I don’t understand him. Why doesn’t he guide the troops himself?”

“Sh-hh - ” whispered Anneke, glancing towards the half-opened door through which they could hear Baxter’s voice explaining the plan in Dutch. “Trust Daniel, Robert. Say nothing no matter vatt you think. You vouldn’t have us betray our friends, vould you, Robert?”

“Our friends!” he repeated. “You mean the Siwanoy? Lieutenant Baxter says they’ll murder us if we don’t get them first.”

“Baxter doesn’t know them,” said Elizabeth with difficulty. Horror and grief for Anne Hutchinson were pressed down by a leaden apathy, while far detached and void of feeling her thoughts made fumbling attempts at reason. Baxter might be right. Daniel and Anneke might both be dangerously blind and mistaken. Anne must have trusted the Weekqussageeks as they were trusting the Siwanoys. Anne Hutchinson, who had refused to have guns in her home, would never wish revenge, or would she? Had all her teachings been mistaken? And at the end, had she repudiated them? Still, it was not the Siwanoys who had massacred her. Yet even if it were -

Elizabeth made a weary motion. “Let Daniel do as he wishes, Rob - ” she said in a wooden voice.

Robert jerked his head up, his eyelids blinked fast. The stubborn look hardened his mouth. “I don’t need you and Dan to tell me always what I should do,” he cried. “I’ll make up my own mind. Maybe I’ll lead the troops myself. Wasobibbi certainly can’t.”

Anneke looked frightened. Elizabeth did not speak. Robert’s defiance did not touch her. Suddenly she saw Anne Hutchinson’s face as it had been once or twice, luminous, exalted. She heard the tender serenity with which Anne had said, “I do not believe God is ever wroth with those who love enough. For God
is
love.” And where was that face now? Crushed, mangled, burned. The voice silenced forever. And Anne the helpless victim of implacable cruelty which had begun in Boston Meetinghouse. Cast out as a leper she had been, delivered up to Satan, by the ministers, by John Winthrop. She had dared to disbelieve the curse, and had been wrong. The God of Love had not saved her after all.

Robert tried to voice his protest when Daniel came back with Wasobibbi, but he had no chance with Baxter, who left the house at once to call orders and inspect the men’s arms. Robert tried to make his wishes clear to the two Dutch officers, who stared at him blankly and shoved him away. He went outside with his gun, and Baxter, seeing him, called, “You stay home, Mr. Feake. Guard the women and children. Now then, Patrick, tell your Indian to get going.”

Daniel nodded solemnly and took Wasobibbi’s arm. The Indian giggled and muttered, “Wampum, wampum.”

“Wampum - there . . .” said Daniel, pointing to the east - the opposite direction from Petuquapan. “Go find wampum,” he said in Siwanoy.

The Indian giggled again, stroked Daniel’s hand like a pleased child and started up the trail, Daniel immediately behind him, followed by the Dutch officers, the hundred and twenty men in single file, and Lieutenant Baxter to bring up the rear.

Anneke watched them go, though Elizabeth did not. “Almost I could laugh - ” said Anneke. She glanced quickly at Robert, whom she had forgotten. “Sit down, Rob,” she said in a coaxing voice. “I fix you a nice little supper.”

Robert sat down angrily. “ ‘Tis not right. Dan treating me like this. He should tell me what he’s doing. I own more land than he does here. He treats me like a fool, and so the officers thought I was. I’m not. I know he’s diddling them. Bess, why don’t you say something? Baxter’s an
Englishman,
and you put us under the Dutch. Yet all you think of is those Indians.”

“That’s not true,” she said, “I’m not thinking at all. I don’t know what’s right. ‘Tis cold in here. Shut the door, Rob. I’m very cold.”

Her peculiar tone disturbed him from his grievance. He closed the door, and looked at her anxiously. “ ‘Tis the Hutchinson massacre’s upset you so, wife?” he said, patting her shoulder. “A terrible thing. That’s why we must wipe the Indians out, don’t you see that, my dear?”

“Don’t talk,” she said. “Leave me alone.”

“Come - ” said Anneke again. “Here is baked pumpkin and oysters for you. Come and eat.”

The night went by. Elizabeth and Anneke put the children to bed. Robert read in his Bible, then slept on the truckle. The women lay down but did not sleep. It was noon that Sunday before they heard male voices and the clink of armour coming down the path,

Elizabeth opened the door, saw Baxter and Patrick in the lead and all the soldiers -straggling haphazardly down through the trees.

“We didn’t find the Siwanoy Fort!” Baxter cried sharply when he saw Elizabeth. “All night long we’ve wandered through the forest. The Indian was a fool, or a knave. He ran away at the end, when Captain Kuyter started to beat him.”

“Aye,” said Daniel, walking up to the house. “We’ve had a grievous night, couldn’t find Petuquapan at all. Lieutenant Baxter has had to come back to the ships for supplies. Bring me rum, Bess!”

She silently complied. Daniel swallowed the entire mugful. Baxter and the Dutch officers drank a little beer.

The sullen hungry troops gathered in the yard again, resting their loaded muskets on the ground, grumbling and cursing. Elizabeth saw Blauvelt, leaning his backside against the well, his fat, malignant face watching Daniel from under the helmet.

“Dan,” said Robert stiffly, walking up to his friend. “If you really had forgotten the way, why did you get Wasobibbi? Everyone knows he’s a natural.”

“What’s that?” said Baxter, who had been conferring with Sergeant Cock as to the next procedure. “What’s that you said, Mr. Feake?”

“Why - ” said Robert with defiance, despite the look that Daniel gave him, “Wasobibbi could never make an able guide, he’s little better than an idiot. You should have taken
me
with you, Lieutenant, I told you - ”

“What does this mean, Captain Patrick?” cut in Baxter, turning on Daniel.

“Naught,” said Daniel. “Feake often gets confused. Isn’t it so, Bess?”

Before she could answer, she was roughly shoved aside. Blauvelt strode up to Daniel. “Vot it mean?” he shouted. “I tell you!” He thrust his vicious face within an inch of Daniel’s. “Ha, Patrick!” he cried. “At last the High Command they vill know vat you are.
Verrader! Varader!”

Daniel turned white, gaping at his enemy, whom he had not-known was there. All the night long Blauvelt had stayed far back in the file, watching and waiting for opportunity, but daring to make no move.

“This fellow calls you a traitor,” said Baxter, while the Dutch officers stiffened, murmuring to each other, looking sideways at Daniel.

“Ja, verrader, traitor!” shouted Blauvelt, and he went on in a torrent of Dutch. “He was thus in Holland, as I know well. Bribes, corruption. He led us astray tonight, because the Indians paid him to. He betrayed the Prince of Orange the same way, taking money from the Spanish.”

“You lie,” said Daniel softly. “You know you lie, Blauvelt.” His fists doubled, his head lowered, he began to weave it to and fro. Blauvelt stepped back, and Baxter said sternly, “These are grave charges, Captain Patrick. Isn’t this the man you fought with at the City Tavern in New Amsterdam ?”

“Aye,” said Daniel. “Aye, and was stopped by the priest.” His hands fell slack, a look of confused bewilderment came into his eyes.

“You see?” cried Blauvelt, slipping his pistol from his belt. “What a coward he is, Mijnheeren, this knave that you trusted and exalted! He finds no words to defend himself. He cannot! Coward and traitor that he is!”

Daniel trembled. He made a sound like a sob. “You whoreson bastard - ” he whispered, and spat full into the fat, taunting face. “God forgive me,” he whispered. “God forgive me that I near broke my vow to the Blessed Virgin.” He turned blindly, making for the door, where Anneke stood shocked and not understanding.

Blauvelt raised his pistol, took quick aim and shot Daniel in the back of the head. Daniel staggered two paces and fell. His legs twitched convulsively and were quiet. He lay with his shattered head on the doorstep, while Anneke screamed.

Nobody moved. There was no sound but Anneke’s screams, until Baxter said, “Jesus, what a coil! Here, seize that fellow!”

Sergeant Cock already had pinioned Blauvelt’s arms and knocked his pistol from his hands. Captain Kuyter said in Dutch, “Och, this is bad. Poor woman. Can nobody stop her screaming?”

Elizabeth moved mechanically towards Anneke, but she could not pass what lay on the doorstep. She stopped by her herb bed, turned a little, and vomited.

Blauvelt, looking at the officers, whined, “He was a traitor. ‘Tis no sin to kill a traitor. You should let me go, Mijnheeren.”

“What will we do with him?” said Kuyter contemptuously, indicating Blauvelt.

“Take him to Stamford, put him under guard with Captain Underhill,” said Baxter after a moment. “We can’t leave here now, until this - ” he looked at Daniel’s body, at Anneke, at Elizabeth retching in the herb bed, “this is all cleared up. Kieft’ll be furious.”

Then he noticed Robert. “Oh, my God - ” Baxter whispered. “What is Mr. Feake doing...?”

Robert was edging up very slowly to Daniel’s body. When he came to the doorstep he knelt beside it, staring down with a puzzled frown, until suddenly he smiled, a sad secret smile, as though he had received some private revelation. Still smiling, he began to wash his hands, carefully, in Daniel’s blood.

It was some time before the news of Daniel Patrick’s death reached Boston, via somewhat inaccurate letters from Captain John Mason at Windsor and Edward Winslow of Plymouth.

John Winthrop, Governor once again, and immersed in Bay matters, was thus reminded of Elizabeth, and uttered a fervent prayer that this distressing event would be salutary for her. Winthrop had been disgusted when he heard of Greenwich’s transfer to Dutch sovereignty, and angered by the occasional rumours which continued to couple her name with Patrick’s. But, on the whole, except for Margaret’s sadly affectionate remarks at times, he had managed to forget his niece. That last incredible night in Water-town when Elizabeth had in some extraordinary way got herself in danger of gaol - if not worse - and he had felt sick and old too - that night he preferred never to dwell on.