"A witch!" they screamed as they crowded in on her. "She's a witch!" "Throw her overboard!" "Cast off the devil!" The captain of the ship yelled at his passengers, shouting for them to be sensible. Another unmarked ship was fast approaching and it would not do to have a murder on his own ship.

"No!" she screamed, "Father Winder, Goodie Helmsworth! Dear Thomas! Thou know'st I'm not a witch!" The priest's gaze was unwavering. He would be no saviour of the wicked-hearted. Goodie Helmsworth turned her head to look at the rising sun; her husband stared on resolutely. Three of their children hid their heads in their mother's skirts.

"She made three barrels of fresh water salty! I saw her do it I did!" Chastity Johnston cried out. Nobody listened to her. Another called out,

"It was her mother wot did it." Limping, the man was let through to the forefront. "Aye, that woman came from foreign parts she did. I remember," he tapped his greying head. "Came from north of our town, from the mountains –"

"Where the witches live!" "And dance sky clad!" "And seduce our husbands!" In unison the party turned to look at one man with two young children. Thomas Jenkins did not cower in front of the eyes of his townspeople.

"Thomas! You know I am not a witch! Tell them, my love, tell them!" she knelt before him, his figure dark against the early dawn's light. Turning from her he said in a clear voice,

"This woman you see before you is no more than a woman. Have mercy upon her soul and mine, for I love her as do my late wife's children. Do not take from me my future wife!" Chastity pushed her way to the front. The ship was closer now; close enough to see the outlines of the passengers on The Majesty.

"Falsehoods! She has deceived you! Goodie Jenkins, God bless her soul," the party motioned a quick cross on their chests, "is not two months in Heaven and already thou has found another!" A chorus of 'ayes' went through the crowd. "He did not grieve for long." "Musta used them funny herbs that mother of hers grew." "Nasty thing, witchcraft."

The crowd had moved back to leave a small group in the middle. Chastity grabbed the woman by the hair and pulled her head back.

"Ah!" the woman cried out in pain but did not move to stop the attack.

"Annabel Wickham is the devil's mistress! She must be killed!" Several voices were heard from the crowd. "Killed?" "That seems a little harsh." "Had such a nice father."

"Now, now, Miss Johnston," Father Winder held his hand up to the sky and the other to Chastity. "One would think that the witch was you, with such harsh words coming from you mouth." Chastity let go of Annabel's hair and stood up angrily to protest.

"Fath–" "Be quiet, Miss Johnston. Mister Johnston, if you would please remove your daughter, she has proven to be a nuisance and a jealous spirit. Punish her as God would want." Crying in anger Chastity was dragged away to the hold by the large butcher.

"Please, Father," Annabel implored. "I have done no wrong, as God is my witness!" The two Jenkins children, a boy and a girl, reached out to her, but were held back by their father.

"Captain James!" Father Winder called out. "We are in need of a long length of rope." The crew looked expectantly at their captain who had been watching the approaching ship. It flew no colours. Ever so slightly his head nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving the other ship. Quickly the cabin boy appeared with the rope and the priest held it up to his flock.

"We shall see if she floats in the Devil's ocean! Should she sink, we will save her before she has died. Should she float, she will be brought on board to receive her due justice!" A cry went up among the crowd, angry at the risk and wondrous at the sensibility of their priest. Resolutely Annabel stood before Father Winder, her hands in front of her and her head down. The rope chaffed her wrists and someone removed her bonnet. Stepping forward Widow Bartley carried a wool blanket in her arms.

"For when you are saved," she offered in consolation before returning to her place in the crowd. Father Winder tilted his head towards the side of the ship and Annabel nodded. Head up and back straight she walked to towards the sunrise. Glancing to the left she noticed that the other ship was close enough for her to see the gleam of their captain's spyglass. A hand on her elbow; Thomas helped her to stand on the wooden railing that was supposed to prevent passengers from falling off. She smiled once to his children, nodded to Father Winder and the men who held the other end of the rope, and then jumped off the edge.

At once the crowd, who had before kept a respectful distance, clamoured for space along the starboard side, and silently watched the waters. Some glanced fearfully at the nearby ship. If she died it would look as though they had murdered her. There was no sign of her, no thrashing of her body, just ripples spreading out from where she had fallen in.

Her eyes and throat were burning from the salt. Foolishly she had opened them and swallowed sea water from the shock. Now she floated under the waves half-frozen from both fear and the cold. Perhaps, she thought, they will not- no! She tossed her head back and forth, her hair flowing out from its bun. Thomas would never, he would save me himself! Her lungs burned and coloured images were flashing behind her eyes. Lord Jesus Christ, who willest that no man should perish, and to whom petition is never made without the hope of mercy…there was no time for the whole prayer. I beg of Thee to grant me at the hour of my death…There was no time.

"It has been long enough! She is pure! Innocent!" Thomas cried out to the priest. Father Winder glanced into the waters again and then up at the risen sun. Quickly he turned to the men and nodded. Immediately they begin to pull on the rope. First the hands appeared, limp and white. A mass of black hair hid Annabel's face from those watching, and at last bare feet rose from the icy waters. Not one whisper was heard as all waited for a sign of life. Widow Bartley hobbled to stand next to Thomas.

At last Thomas was able to reach out and pull her onto the ship. He reached for his knife to cut the ropes, but a wrinkled hand stopped him. He allowed for the widow to take his place beside Annabel. Wetting a finger Widow Bartley held it up against Annabel's parted lips.

"She breathes." Thomas sighed and knelt back down to hold her hands. They were too cold. Together they wrapped the blanket around her now shivering body as the other women crowded around.

"Father," Thomas began, but the priest shook his head.

"Our Father, who art in heaven," everyone but the widow and Annabel on board joined Father Winder. "Hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy Will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven…"

"Captain!"

"…but deliver us from Evil. Amen." Heads rose as the prayer finished.

"Insolent boy! Who do you think are you to interrupt our Lord's Prayer? May God have mercy upon your soul–" Father Winder shouted at the cabin boy.

"Pirates, Captain James! Pirates!"