Some of them had never been out of England, and they were excitedly looking forward to the picturesque all-wizarding village of Eschwegen�it had one of the largest stages in the wizarding world; it was famous for the productions it put on thrice a year, and it was a goal of every amateur actor and actress to perform on that stage.
Amid the noisy chatter, Professor McGonagall stepped in front of the large entrance hall doors, clapping her hands until the great echoing chamber was silent.
�We are bringing your mode of transportation around to the front steps. Please leave your luggage; you will be sleeping on the Transporter.� She nodded at them, and, removing the padlock from the large doors, flung them open and let the stream of nervous and jittery nerves pass outside into the whirling snowstorm.
They all stopped short when they saw the mode of transportation they were to use. It was a large, spherical, crystal-like ball, rising twenty feet into the sky or more, and looking for all the world like the most annoying crystals Professor Trelawney had stacked up on several of her shelves in the tower room she occupied. They wouldn�t have known how to enter it if a door hadn�t been open on the side of it; shaking snowflakes out of their eyes, they hurried inside.
It was large and roomy inside; covered with a carpet stamped with the Hogwarts crest, it was inviting and warm. Bunks were stacked up to the ceiling, and they included warm blankets and two pillows a person. There were quite a few comfortable poufs placed almost haphazardly here and there on the floor, the only part of the place that wasn�t circular. A lamp hung from the center of the ceiling, bathing the whole place in a warm yellow light.
Suddenly talkative and excited, the students started claiming the bunks and throwing their bags onto the floor. They hadn�t much room, as the sets were stacked against the walls, but it was comfortably crowded.
Lily had clambered onto one of the highest bunk beds; the one that was closest to the ceiling. She unslung her two bags from her shoulder and let herself fall onto the pillow. She could see through the walls, outside the snow was whirling and beating only inches from her face.
Seconds later, it seemed, they were being ordered onto their respective bunks. When they did so, a protective shield covered them, emerging from underneath each bunk.
Professor McGonagall�s voice could be heard through the shields; she was informing them that they were to refrain from undoing the protective shields until they were safely in the air. And then�and then�they took off.
Lily didn�t think she could have ever dreamed of such a mode of transportation. To take off, they started whirling, and then they rose, spitting miniature white lacy bits around them. Lily wondered for a few seconds at how dizzy she would get�but before she had time to, they were floating gently among grayish, dark clouds, and then, almost before she had time to draw a breath, the shield was being drawn up, and chatter resumed in the globe.
It took only thirty minutes before they landed in Eschwegen; they came down softly; hardly anyone noticed the slight bump when they touched the ground. When they did land, Lily noticed something; the outside of their vehicle had melted into a picturesque inn, wooden, with beams covering the windows.
Professor McGonagall rose from the chaperone�s room, moved to the center of the globe, and clapped her hands once. The chatter immediately stopped.
�We have arrived in Eschwegen, Germany. I will ask you to stay inside while I inform the judging committee of our arrival. You will not be allowed to leave this village; and if you decide to do some sight-seeing, by all means inform myself, Mr. or Mrs. Potter, or Mr. and Mrs. Doylen. Please keep the noise down; tomorrow you have your performance, and simply because we are not in Hogwarts does not mean that we do not expect you to behave as if you still were.� She swept out of the doorway, letting in a few piles of snow that started to melt on the floor.
Lily leaned back; pulling out a book, she gazed dreamily at the first page without reading it. She hadn�t much time to think, though�a bounce on the bed told her that someone had just clambered over the railing.
�Hallo, Lora.�
�Hallo. I�ve got the bunk next to you.�
�Really?�
�Of course. Eva�s down on the bottom. She doesn�t like heights.�
Lily smiled. �I know.�
�So�� Lora curled her arms around her knees��you nervous?�
Lily closed her eyes, thinking hard about what she felt like; she retreated into a dimly lit world of mists and the noise of whirling snow and the sea.
She flung her eyelids open. �No�I�m more peaceful than anything else. My mother never was nervous before a performance, she told me�I think I inherited that from her.�
Lora flung her out of the dreamy realm with the laugh like money. �Then inheritance is a good thing!�
�Ye-es.�
�Lily, what�re you thinking of?�
Lily shrugged. �Mostly of tomorrow�I do hope I do well, and I pray that James doesn�t do anything�anything of the sort he did during rehearsals.�
Lora smiled wickedly. �He wouldn�t dare. We�re both ready with our fists. And wands,� she added as an afterthought. �But if he does anything, just�er�just do something out of the ordinary, and I�ll hex him for you.�
�Not onstage!�
�No, Lily, I�ll most definitely spoil our chances of winning two thousand Galleons in front of a panel of judges during a play we�ve worked on for months. Afterwards, you pillock!�
�Why don�t I feel complimented,� Lily murmered.
�Because you�re not,� Lora stated matter-of-factly.
No one really slept too well that night. Lily woke up three times; once at two, once at three, and once at five. Each time she sat up in bed quickly, she could hear at least five people muttering something in their nightmares.
�No�no�not the sheep! Don�t feed the sheep!�
�Goodness will prevail and we will all be happy people. But what about the teddy bears?�
�Sheep!�
�Peeves, one more move and I�ll bloody belt you.�
�Not the shoelaces! Take me�but leave her the shoelaces!�
�My sheep!�
�Do ruby slippers have shoelaces?�
�Oysters and mice will overrun the world�and we will all be smothered in fuzzy hair and oyster shells��
They gulped down their hot cocoa the next morning with a ravenous appetite, and they were told it was their last dairy product for the day, since things with milk in them coat the throat and make it harder to enunciate. It was almost a catastrophe for those of them that had been counting on pounds of Chocolate Frogs to keep them awake, but James had had the foresight to stash a can of ground coffee and quite a lot of sugar in his bag.
They sat in a circle for most of the day, running over lines and blocking, and fixing costumes that had been ripped or stained by something. The girls had taken their white aprons off after two disasters when they came in contact with hot coffee and had to be plunged into hot running water in a small sink, located behind a hidden panel near the chaperones� rooms.
Finally, it was five o�clock. They all stood up and gave several variations of �break a leg� wishes, then followed Professor McGonagall outside, onto the street packed with snow, towards a large, stone, friendly building. Flags were flying, flags with a crest on them: the two drama masks, surrounded with a motto:
Tragoedia adeo anima�tragedies are life.
The theater had only produced one or two comedies�the rest were tragedies.
They stepped inside the theater in awe. Posters of former plays produced there were framed and hanging on the wall; their feet sank half an inch into the red velvet carpet lining the floor. Stained-glass windows were covered with deep red curtains embroidered with the theater�s motto in gold thread, and the doors leading into the amphitheater-sized stage and audience area were carved with the tragedy and comedy masks on each curved pane of wood; the eyes, usually hollow, had sparkling gems set in them.
It took quite a lot of harrumphing by Professor McGonagall and pushing by the other parents to get the cast and crew into a side door, labeled Behind the Scenes�For Actors and Assistants Only. Even James was in awe of the thirty-foot-high ceiling and the magnificent size of the theater itself.
Backstage, of course, wasn�t nearly as fancy as the part of the building seen by the public, but it had the charms of rich black carpet and old-fashioned lanterns that could be turned up as high as they could go, and a sort of shield would prevent the beams from going anywhere but backstage.
Upstairs, in the dressing rooms, the girls had two rooms; one for changing, the other for getting their hair and face paint done. The large oak cabinet was filled with enough hangers for everyone, including the other casts that were competing.
The makeup room was fascinating; brilliantly lit crystal mirrors were set at intervals all around a counter that ran along a whole side of the room; two entire walls were nothing but mirrors. As many different shades of makeup as could be desired were packed neatly in kits; and it was good quality; none of the cheap things some theaters were packed with.
There were two sinks, one at each end of the room, and at least forty quality brushes, ten curling irons and packs of curlers, at least thirty packs of hairpins, several bottles of a starchy homemade spray for the hair that held better than any sort of hairspray that could be found in stores, and a few pincushions and rolls of thread for loose buttons and ripped hems and such.
The arrangement for the tournament was this: they were to change into their costumes, then report downstairs to the stage, along with the thirteen other troupes competing; they would be informed of the rules, and then the public was to be let in. The order in which they would compete would be drawn out of the theater�s first trophy; a golden cup, laced with silver vines. They would be permitted, of course, to sit in a specially constructed balcony, and watch the others compete.
This was a spectacular event for the theater itself; many rich wizards would be pouring in over the next three days; the International Ministry of Magic and the International Board of International Magical Cooperation was to attend; not to mention the general public; the public that would pay thirty Galleons a seat.
Soberly, quietly, but with sudden bursts of eager excitement, they slipped into their full costume, along with the Puritan shoes that were anything but steadfast and the ridiculous caps and aprons. Lily, usually so avert to any sort of make-up and fancy hair arrangements, could be found with her hair artistically flung down her back, with curls here and there, and thick, black eyelashes. Her eyes were brought out scornfully with a brown tint, and her hands were artificially work-stained. Her mother had taught her enough to make her almost an expert.
Lily was asked by almost all of the girls and most of the boys to do their face and hair for them; there was no denying that she had a talent for theatrical makeup. She had fun with the boys� makeup�James� especially. His character was the most powerful and domineering in the production, and he had to look the part.
She spent almost ten minutes with the brown stain covering his skin; he was to be a farmer, therefore he had to work in the sun, Lily reasoned. His hair was grown out nicely; it had only taken a few months for it to reach shoulder-length. Dipping her hands in the hair starch and then in a sort of oil, she ran her fingers through his hair, regarding him with a critical eye.
�What�re you doing?�
�Your hair, that�s what. You don�t take a bath every day; you�re a farmer; your hair should be mildly greasy.�
�You want me to look like Snape?�
�Don�t flatter yourself.� She was deliberately antagonizing him; if he was angry at her when the curtain came up, so much the better. �You couldn�t look half of him.�
�Excuse me? You fancy that prat?�
�No.� Her cool, calm voice stopped his suspicions. �That was intended to be an insult. You don�t seem to like his looks much; at least, that was the impression I received.�
�Well, then, just insult me normally, don�t go at it a roundabout way!�
�Let me get this straight.� She accidentally pulled some of his hair out; he yelped, glaring at her. �You�re asking me to insult you?�
�No.�
�I thought not. Seemed like you�d just taken leave of whatever imitation senses you possessed at one point in time.�
�They�re AWOL.�
�I see.� Her eyebrows were knotted. �You�ve got a nasty tangle in your hair. Sit still!�
Sirius swung into the doorway. �James, we�ve got ten minutes.� James let out something between a snort and a grunt, and Lily clamped her hand over his mouth. Hard.
�Will you shut up?! You asked me to do your hair; at least don�t complain about your own tangles!�
Sirius laughed. �She�s got you there, my friend.� Falsely confidentially, he stage-whispered to Lily, �He�s broken his comb in his hair before��
Lily finally finished with James, and even he had to admit that she had done quite well.
�No question about it; if this was revolving around the makeup, we�d win, hands down.� He grinned at Lily, who involuntarily smiled back.
They trooped downstairs with eyes wide with anticipation, and everyone gathered on the stage. Lily looked around�there was a group from China; one from Egypt�another from Italy, three from America, one from a Brazilian school, two from Russia, two from Australia, one from Germany, and one from Spain.
The different costumes, all jumbled together, seemed to make hardly any sense: the Puritan costumes of the English troupe, the swordsmen and their extravagantly dressed ladies from America, the Merchant of Venice cast from Italy.
One cast from America was in a shade of green blending in with leaves they wore around their heads and twined around the hilts of there swords; one of the groups from Russia were in armour and weaponed; the other was in a flurry of 1920s clothing. There were bright spots all over the stage, dulled with the brown and dirt-like colors of the other costumes, and it was fun to imagine the plays they would be performing.
The International Head of the Ministry of Magic was composed of the Ministers of Magic of every country. Rowland Sikora was there; and Lily saw him wave to Serena. Some were in traditional costume of their country; others were merely in expensive robes. They were either pleasantly awaiting the performances or nervously looking at watches, though most of them were politely sitting still, waiting for the Head of the International Magical Cooperation to speak.
A rather fat old man came forward; he was one of the only ones in a black suit and tie, with a white shirt. A gold watch-chain was hanging artistically from his shirt pocket, and a handkerchief with the theater�s drama masks was in the other pocked. He cleared his throat noisily and stepped forward, his shined, black shoes squeaking against each other.
�My dear, my very friends. This is the five hundredth year this theater has been in existence, and, as its director, I have decided to promote its proud continuation with this bringing together of adults and students from all over the world. Welcome.�
Something about the way his mouth moved caught Lily�s eye; she leaned inconspicuously closer. He was speaking in German, but to her ears it sounded English, and his mouth was forming the German words for his speech. She was interested; she knew exactly where in the library she could find a book that taught her about that kind of charm, and she wanted to try it. Meanwhile, the Head was still speaking.
�In a few minutes, this theater and contest will be open to the public. We will ask you to, if you wish, remain quietly on the balcony�� he gestured above his head and towards the audience��that has been constructed for your especial use. You may reach it by a door near the dressing rooms labeled Cast Audience.�
�I will ask you to, naturally, remain quiet and respect the other troupes. No sabotage of any sort will be indulged upon, and if this is attempted, the troupe to which the offender's belong will be dismissed from the tournament.
�The judges will be looking for presentation, projection, the ease with which the piece flows, the comfortableness of the actors with their surroundings and their lines, and, naturally, the acting in general. That being said, my friends, �break a leg.� To our friends including dancing in their piece, I say �Merde.� Above all, enjoy yourselves, and we look forward to a wonderful performance!�
The loud sound of clapping filled the air, and they were directed to the �green room� backstage, the room where the actors waited for the theater to fill. As quietly as possible, they made their way upstairs, as they could hear the rustling of ladies� robes and handbags entering the theater.
The green room connected the boys� and girls� dressing rooms, and it was the size of all four rooms combined, which, in this case, was a good thing. The Crucible�s cast drew to a corner and started rehearsing; Lucius was trying to embed the fact that when one was pretending to be dead, one did not start fixing one�s hair to the girl playing Betty, James was talking softly to Serena, Lora was jumping around, hooking little fingers with all of the cast and whispering �Break a leg!�, and then giving them a kiss on each cheek�she had been to France on a holiday last Easter.
Lily was sewing up James� cloak; he had managed to catch it on a hook and had torn it nastily. The nine accusing girls were fluttering as they went over their scene in the courtroom, and Frank Longbottom was trying to remember one of his lines�the �Have you gone daft, Corey?� from the beginning of Act Three was escaping him constantly.
Finally, the noise downstairs subsided, the voice of the theater�s director announced a few things, and then he began with the pulling of casts out of the golden cup. He removed the tarpaulin from a statue that was to be awarded to the winner; the actors upstairs either blanched or reddened at the applause they could hear.
Then, a sheet of rolled-up parchment hanging from the wall unrolled itself, and names began writing themselves in thick, black ink; the order in which they would go.
Frank bustled back with his knowledge: they were thirteenth on the list. Several people moaned.
�You mean we�re last?�
�We�re thirteenth? Thirteenth is my unlucky number!�
�I can�t do this! I can�t go last. I want to get this over with.�
�Hey, last is good! The judges�ll have a fresh impression of our performance!�
They went on in that vein until fresh markings appeared on the roll of parchment; the American troupe dressed in green stood up, some of them excited, others pale with apprehension. To applause from the other casts, they trooped downstairs and, with the fall of an almost deathly hush, they began.
One after another, the plays that night went on. Robin Hood, tales from A Thousand and One Nights, The Great Gatsby, something in the time period of the Three Musketeers, The Merchant of Venice�
The third night was the time of the final performance by the Hogwarts students, besides being the night when the winning troupe would be presented with their award and the two thousand Galleons. After making sure their props were where they needed to be, Reverend Parris and Betty scurried to their places, and the curtain went up.
The door opened, and his slave, Tituba entered, frightened and in a flurry.
�My Betty be hearty soon?�
Parris rose to his feet. �Out of here!�
Tituba started to back towards the door. �My Betty not goin� die��
�Out of my sight! Out of my�� Tituba vanished, and he collapsed. �Oh, my God! God help me!�
Recovering himself, he took Betty�s hand. �Betty. Child. Dear child. Will you wake, will you open your eyes! Betty, little one��
He knelt down again, and Lily entered, somewhat frightened, worried, and apprehended.
�Uncle? Susanna Walcott�s here from Doctor Griggs.�
�Oh?� He looked up. �Let her come, let her come.�
Lily leaned out of the door, calling. �Come in, Susannah.�
Susannah told Parris that the doctor couldn�t find a remedy for Betty�s still stiffness, and that they might look to witchcraft for the cause. Parris emphatically denied witchcraft, and sent her away. Parris turned on Abigail.
�Abigail, I cannot go before the congregation when I know you have not opened with me. What did you do with her in the forest?�
Lily tossed her head, though she was obviously unnerved. �We did dance, uncle, and when you leaped out of the bush so suddenly, Betty was frightened and then she fainted. And there�s the whole of it.�
He didn�t believe her. �Child. Sit you down.�
He lectured her on telling him the truth, for if he was proven to have associated himself with witchcraft, he would be driven from his pulpit. Several other village women entered, declaring that Betty had been �witched�. The news came out that Ruth Putnam, another daughter in the village, was sick, too, and that Ruth had been sent to Tituba to find out why her seven brothers died at childbirth. Parris still refused to believe in witchcraft in his house, and then he left Abigail, Betty, and two other girls in the attic; Mercy Lewis and Mary Warren.
Mercy, in a cold cruelty, walked over to Betty. �Have you tried beatin� her? I gave Ruth a good one and it waked her for a minute. Here, let me have her.�
Oddly protective, Lily held Mercy back. �No; he�ll be comin� up. Listen now�if they be questioning us, tell them we danced�I told his as much already.�
Mercy was uneasy. �Aye. And what more?�
�He knows Tituba conjured Ruth�s sisters to come out of the grave.�
�And what more?�
Ruthlessly, Lily continued. �He say you naked.�
Mercy clapped her hands together in front of her mouth, terrified. �Oh, Jesus!�
Mary Warren started to cry. �What�ll we do? The village is out! I just come from the farm; the whole country�s talkin� witchcraft! They�ll be calling us witches, Abby!�
She meant to tell, the other girls knew it, and then Mary told them they had to��Witchery�s a hangion� error, a hangin� like they done in Boston two year ago! We must tell the truth, Abby!�
Abigail scorned the threat from Mary, and she quickly went over to Betty�s bed, Upon shaking, Betty woke up, and she turned on Abigail.
�You didn�t tell him everything! You drank blood, Abby! You didn�t tell him that!�
�Betty! You never say that again! You will never!"
�You did, you did!� Betty was crying hysterically. �You drank a charm to kill John Proctor�s wife! You drank a charm to kill Goody Proctor!�
Rage came over Abigail�s face, and she smashed Betty across hers. �Shut it! Now shut it!�
Betty collapsed, weeping, onto the bed, and Abigail turned to the other girls with her threatening speech about stabbing them in their sleep if they told anything but that they danced. When she finished, James entered, frowning, radiating an air of �making the fool feel his foolishness�, and letting his cloak fall from his shoulders carelessly. Obviously frightened, Mercy and Mary left the attic with various excuses, and James, Lily, and the girl playing the once again inert Betty were left alone.
Lily had been absorbing his presence wide-eyed since he entered, and now she tiptoed forward. �Gah! I�d almost forgot how strong you are, John Proctor!�
With the same knowing smile on his face, James looked up at her. �What�s this mischief here?�
Lily told him what had gone on last night, with a shy, winning smile on her face.
�Ah, you�re wicked yet, are you?� James laughed heartily. �You�ll be clapped in the stocks before you�re twenty.�
He turned to go, but Lily took his hand and turned him around, softer than she had been with anyone that day. �Give me a word, John. A soft word.�
He frowned at her. �No, no, Abby. That�s done with.� He pulled his hand away, but she took his other one.
�You come five mile to see a silly girl fly? I know you better.� Her jeering, taunting tone again set him at ease, and, almost overcome with the spell of the Puritan time, her lies and her love, he pushed her aside again.
�I come to see what mischief you uncle�s brewin� now. Put it out of mind, Abby.�
Lily laid her hand on his shoulder, so light he hardly felt it. �John�I am waiting� for you every night.�
�Abby, I never gave you hope to wait for me.�
Starting to anger, her sweet tone turned harsh. �I have something better than hope, I think!�
�Abby!� His unsympathetic tone made her draw back. �You�ll put it out of mind. I�ll not be comin� for you more.�
She couldn�t believe it. �You�re surely sporting with me!�
James, determined to go through with his resolution, clenched his teeth. �You know me better.�
Outraged, Lily took his collar in one hand, making him look her in the eyes, the glaring orbs that were impassioned with furious indignation.
�I know how you clutched my back behind your house and sweated like a stallion whenever I came near! Or did I dream that? It�s she put me out, you cannot pretend it were you. I saw your face when she put me out, and you loved me then and you do now!�
�Abby!� James pushed her away from him, telling her that was done with, and that he didn�t care for her. Lily refused to believe his words, and she made one last appeal, with tears in her eyes.
�I look for John Proctor that put knowledge into my heart! I never knew what pretense Salem was, I never knew the lying lessons I was taught by all these Christian women and their covenanted men! And now you bid me tear the light out of my eyes? I will not, I cannot! You loved me, John Proctor, and whatever sin it is, you love me yet!� The tears were spilling down her face now as James turned to go; she rushed to him.
�Oh, John, pity me, pity me!�
James stared. He had never heard her say anything with that much emotion in it�no exclamations of fear or anger or anything she had ever said had seemed to mean as much to her as her plea just had. Quite frankly, he couldn�t move; he couldn�t force himself to say anything; he was awestruck. Thankfully, it made a good effect, and just then, from offstage, someone started singing a psalm, and the words �going up to Jesus� were heard. Betty sat straight up in bed at that, clapping her hands to her ears and whining loudly, screaming bloody murder.
The noise snapped James out of his trance; he followed Lily over to Betty�s bed as Lily tried to pull Betty�s hands off of her ears. Pandemonium ensued; the crowd of neighbors crowded into the room, and several women almost went hysterical at the words of witchcraft flung back and forth. In the middle of it, Reverend John Hale entered, an expert on the subject of witchcraft; he had signed death warrants for several people in Boston, and Parris had asked him to come down.
Several people came up to him, asking what the meaning was of their wife�s reading of books in secret, and things of the sort, and finally Hale called Abigail to him, to question her on the happenings of the other night. Almost petrified, she answered his question of what kind of dancing they had been doing.
�Why�common dancing is all.�
Parris interrupted. �I think I ought to say that I�I saw a kettle in the grass where they were dancing.�
Lily, frightened anew, leaned on the bedpost. �That were only soup!�
Hale frowned. �What kind of soup were in this kettle, Abigail?�
�Why, it were beans, and�� She stopped to think wildly. �And lentils, I think. And��
Hale turned to Parris. �Mr. Parris, you did not notice, did you, any living thing in the kettle? A mouse, perhaps, a spider, a frog--?�
Fearfully, Parris admitted to seeing movement in the kettle, and Abigail jumped in again. �That leaped in, we never put it in!�
Quickly, Hale questioned her. �What jumped in?�
She realized her mistake. �Why, a very little frog jumped��
�A frog, Abby!� Parris was outraged.
Hale grasped Abigail�s arm so forcefully that she cried out. �Abigail, it may be your cousin is dying! Did you call the Devil last night?�
�I never called him,� she protested frantically. �Tituba�Tituba��
Parris blanched. �She called the Devil?�
�I should like to speak with Tituba,� Hale stated firmly.
Mrs. Putnam, a neighbor, exited to bring the slave, and Hale turned to Abigail again. �How did she call him?�
Thrashing about for an answer, Lily landed on the first she could think of. �I know not�she spoke Barbados. I didn�t see no Devil!� She started shaking Betty. �Betty, wake up. Betty! Betty!�
�You cannot evade me, Abigail.� Hale�s voice was firm. �Did your cousin drink some of the brew in that kettle?�
�She never drank it!�
Something was radiating from Lily; a sense of frightened hysteria that made some of the onlookers feel as if they themselves were being questioned for murder; it made them want to scream, to run somewhere.
�Did you drink it?�
�No, sir!�
�Did Tituba ask you to drink it?�
She immediately resumed an innocent, angelic look. �She tried, but I refused.�
Hale stemmed his fists in his sides. �Why are you concealing? Have you sold yourself to Lucifer?�
She couldn�t keep the terror out of her eyes or her voice. �I never sold myself! I�m a good girl! I�m a proper girl!�
Her eyes fell on Tituba, who had just entered. Pointing a finger accusingly at the slave, she retreated to the other side of the bed.
�She made me do it! She made Betty do it!�
Tituba was shocked. �Abby!�
Lily didn�t falter. �She makes me drink blood!�
Hale let out an exclamation. They started questioning Tituba closely, refusing to believe her protestations of innocence, and finally urging her to confess all, after they had led her to say that she had seen people from Salem with the Devil.
�Take courage, child,� Hale told her, �you must give us all their names. How can you bear to see this child suffering?� He gestured towards Betty. �Look at her, Tituba. Look at her God-given innocence; her soul is so tender, we must protect her, Tituba; the Devil is out and preying on her like a beast upon the flesh of the pure lamb. God will bless you for your help!�
Lily had drawn back against the wall at the maniacal interviewing of the blubbering lady, and, a gleam of inspiration shining on her face, she stepped forward, her hands clasped, and her eyes uplifted.
�I want to open myself!� The occupants of the attic whirled around to face her, but she sank to her knees, hands still clasped.
�I want to open myself!� The occupants of the attic whirled around to face her, but she sank to her knees, hands still clasped. �I want the light of God; I want the sweet love of Jesus! I danced for the Devil; I saw him; I wrote in his book; I go back to Jesus, I kiss his hand.� The angelic look faded from her face, and desperately, almost frantically, she started crying out her lines. �I saw Sarah Good with the Devil! I saw Goody Osburn with the Devil! I saw Bridget Bishop with the Devil!�
Betty awoke, and, sitting up in bed, with a fever in her eyes, picked up where Lily had left off. �I saw George Jacobs with the Devil! I saw Goody Howe with the Devil!�
With an exclamation of relief, Parris rushed over to Betty, embracing her. �She speaks!�
Hale lifted his hands in prayer. �Glory to God! It is broken, they are free!�
With great relief, Betty was still crying out her list of names. �I saw Martha Bellows with the Devil!�
Almost gleefully, Lily joined her again. �I saw Goody Sibbers with the Devil!�
A rich landowner, Thomas Putnam, went for the door. �The marshal, I�ll call the marshal!�
Betty rose onto her knees. �I saw Alice Barrow with the Devil!�
Hale called out after Putnam, �Let the marshal bring irons!�
The curtain started to fall on Lily�s and Betty�s ecstatic cries.
�I saw Goody Hawkins with the Devil!�
�I saw Goody Bibber with the Devil!�
�I saw Goody Booth with the Devil!�
Breathless, the girls almost collapsed as the curtain fell and the resounding applause came to their ears.
Smiling and grinning with glee, they made their way offstage, helping quickly with the rearranging of the sets.
Lily had no part in the next act; it was mostly James and the Ravenclaw girl; John and Elizabeth Proctor. She had made her way to the balcony for the casts, and she quietly fastened her eyes on the stage.
The act took place in the Proctor farmhouse, and Elizabeth was urging John to tell the court that Abigail was a fraud, for soon Abigail would cry out against Elizabeth, seeking to take her place as John�s wife. Mary Warren, their servant girl, confirmed Elizabeth�s suspicions by coming in from testifying in court and telling them that Abigail had accused Elizabeth. In the middle of their scene, Mr. Hale entered.
�Good evening.�
James looked up. �Why, Mr. Hale! Good evening to you, sir. Come in, come in.� He pulled a chair out from underneath the table.�
Hale nodded to Elizabeth. �I hope I do not startle you.�
Several polite nothings were murmered, and then Mr. Hale started to question them as to their faith. They had been in church only twenty-six times in seventeen months; Hale put great weight upon that. Three of his children were not baptized, and Hale remonstrated James dearly for that. Then he asked them as to their knowledge of the Bible.
�Do you know your Commandments, Elizabeth?�
Eagerly, she nodded, with an open face. �I surely do. There be no mark of blame upon my life, Mr. Hale. I an a covenanted Christian woman.�
�And you, Mister?� He pointed to James, who started to sweat a trifle.
�I�I am sure I do, sir.�
Hale glanced at Elizabeth�s eager face, then at James�, and he pointed to him. �Let you repeat them, then.�
�The Commandments.� James was stalling.�
�Aye.� Hale rested a hand upon his knee and waited.
James looked away; he wiped the sweat from his brow. �Thou shalt not kill.�
�Aye.�
He was counting on his fingers. �Thou shalt not steal Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor�s goods, nor make onto thee any graven image. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord in vain; thou shalt not have no other gods before me.� He started to hesitate. �Thou shalt remember the Sabbath Day and keep it holy.� He paused. �Thou shalt honor thy father and mother. Thou shalt not bear false witness.�
He was stuck. Silently, he kept counting over and over on his fingers, flailing for the missing Commandment. �Thou shalt not make onto thee any graven image.�
Hale frowned. �You have said that twice, sir.�
�Aye.� He wiped his forehead again.
Delicately, Elizabeth interposed. �Adultery, John.�
James winced. �Aye.� He tried to grin at Mr. Hale. �You see, sir, between the two of us we do know them all.�
Hale only looked at James, clearly thinking hard; while James became more uneasy. �I think it be a small fault.�
With an impeccable air of righteousness, Hale rose. �Theology, sir, is a fortress; no crack in a fortress may be accounted small.� In deep thought, he started to pace the room.
Elizabeth urged John to tell him what Abigail had told him, in the attic, that they had merely been dancing, and it was all posh; there was no witchcraft about it. Hale listened eagerly; then they were interrupted. Giles Corey and Francis Nurse, both husbands of two exceedingly upright and faithful women, entered the room, distraught with fear.
Giles, an old man, hobbled over to James, pleading with his eyes, as if he could make everything come right again. �They take my wife.�
Francis made an indistinct sound in the corner, and Giles gestured to him. �And his Rebecca!�
James was astounded. �Rebecca�s in the jail?�
Rebecca Nurse was arrested for the �supernatural murder of Goody Putnam�s babies�, Martha Corey for bewitching a neighbor with her books. Then the court clerk, Ezekiel Cheever, entered, with a warrant for Elizabeth Proctor.
James demanded proof fiercely, and, in answer, Cheever caught up a doll, what he called a �poppet�, that Mary had made in court that day and given to Elizabeth Proctor. Elizabeth smiled wryly as she handed it to him.
�Has the court discovered a text in poppets now?�
Cheever turned it over, avoiding her eyes. �Do you keep any others in this house?�
James interrupted. �No, nor this one either till tonight. What signifies a poppet?� He was nervous and apprehensive, jumping at the squeak of the chair that Elizabeth pulled out.
�Why, a poppet�� Cheever was gingerly handling it��a poppet may signify�Now, woman, will you please to come with me?�
James knew what ground he was standing on, and he reached for Elizabeth, pulling her behind him. �She will not!� Turning to his wife, he gave her an order. �Fetch Mary here.�
�No!� Cheever reached for Elizabeth�s arm. �I am forbidden to let her out of sight.�
James pushed the clerk away, almost sneering. �You�ll leave her out of sight and out of mind, Mister. Fetch Mary, Elizabeth.�
Elizabeth obeyed and left the room, and Mr. Hale turned to Cheever. �What signifies a poppet, Mr. Cheever?�
The man turned the small doll over in his hands again, almost stuttering. �Why, they say it may signify that she�� He had turned the doll�s skirt over, and drew a long, sharp, gleaming needle from its belly.
�Why, this�this! It�s a needle, Hale, a needle!� His whole face had changed; it was disgusted and wide-eyed; and somewhat terrified as he glanced towards James, who was striding towards him.
�And what signifies a needle?�
Cheever�s hands were doing a rather good job of shaking as he gave his answer. �why, this go hard with her, Proctor�this�I had my doubts, Proctor, I had my doubts, but here�s calamity.� He showed the needle to Hale. �You see, sir, it is a needle?�
�Why?� Hale was confused. �What meanin� has it?�
Cheever was trembling. �The girl, the Williams girl, Abigail Williams, sir. She sat to dinner in the Reverend Parris� house tonight, and without word nor warning� she falls to the floor. Like a struck beast, he says, and screamed a scream that a bull would weep to hear. And he goes to save her, and, stuck two inches in the flesh of her belly, he drew a needle out. And demandin� of her how she come to be so stabbed, she�� he gestured to James��testify it were your wife�s familiar spirit pushed it in.�
James was outraged. �Why, she done it herself!� He swung on Hale. �I hope you�re not takin� this for proof, Mister!�
Hale was silent, and then Mary Warren and Elizabeth emerged again.
Cheever and James interrogated her, and it came to light that she had made the doll in the court, and that she had put the needle in the stomach of it for safekeeping, on Abigail�s bidding. Nevertheless, Cheever insisted on taking Elizabeth to the jail.
Elizabeth laid a hand on his arm. �I�ll go, John.�
He swung fiercely towards the clerk. �You will not go!�
Herrick, another judge, frowned at him. �I have nine men outside. You cannot keep her. The law binds me, John, I cannot budge.�
Desperately, James turned to Hale, putting a forceful hand on his shoulder, so that the weaker man almost crumpled. �Will you see her taken?�
�Proctor, the court is just��
�Pontius Pilate!� James was raging now, and something about him struck everyone around him as though they were watching a rabid dog free of kennel and chain. �God will not let you wash your hands of this!�
Elizabeth�s quiet tone calmed him, wiping away some of his anger. �John�I think I must go with them.�
He turned his face away; he could not look at her, but she continued. �Mary, there is bread enough for the morning; you will bake in the afternoon. Help Mr. Proctor as though you were his daughter�you owe me that, and much more.� She was fighting back tears. �When the children wake, speak nothing of witchcraft�it will frighten them.� She turned away; she could not speak.
James took her in his arms. �I will bring you home. I will bring you home soon.�
She let go of her self-control and clutched at his shirt. �Oh, John, bring me soon!�
He clenched his teeth. �I will fall like an ocean on that court! Fear nothing, Elizabeth.�
She smiled slightly, through tears. �I will fear nothing.� She turned away, then looked back. �Tell the children I have gone to visit someone sick.� She let Herrick lead her out, and James followed her; the clank of chain reached the audience�s ears.
That simple sound almost drove James mad. He rushed outside. �Herrick! Herrick, don�t chain her! Damn you, man, you will not chain her! Off with them! I�ll not have it! I will not have her chained!�
He finally gave in, unwillingly, and Herrick and Cheever bore him, struggling, back inside. Herrick was gasping out an apology.
�In God�s name, John, I cannot help myself. I must chain them all. Now let you keep inside the house till I am gone!� He left the room, and, one by one the others left him, till only he and Mary Warren, who was weeping in a corner, were still there. Frightened, she lifted up her head.
