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A pine knot torch flared on the corner of the house, and by its light he peered into her averted face. “You weep, Bess?” he whispered unbelieving. He bent nearer, anxious and uncertain. She did not draw away, He put his arms around her, and she laid her cheek against his cloak, “Ah, husband - “ she said. “Forgive me that I do not - “ she could not finish aloud. But her whole thought echoed in her heart. Forgive me that I do not love enough.

That whole year of 1637 was the most troubled that the Bay Colony had known. By March Winthrop had consolidated all the ministers but Cotton with the two powerful magistrates, Thomas Dudley and John Endecott They were ready for attack and they moved. They haled Wheelwright before the General Court, accusing him of contempt and sedition, as evidenced by his Fast Day speech. The Hutchinson party was thunderstruck and then rallied to the defence, violently protesting the allegation, and its methods, and averring that these hearings behind closed doors remarkably resembled the tyrannies of the detested Star Chamber in England. Fifty-eight of Boston’s most prominent citizens signed a Remonstrance demanding proper procedure and indicating sympathy for Wheelwright. John Underhill’s name headed this petition, which had Governor Harry Vane’s and William Coddington’s passionate approval. Vane and Winthrop thereupon held stormy private sessions, from which the young Governor and his deputy emerged each angrier and more obdurate than ever.

Winthrop’s party was, however, compelled by Boston’s outcry and the Governor’s authority to temporize until the May elections. Moreover as the spring advanced they were all forced into a brief truce by the recognition of acute danger on their western borders. The Pequots were on the rampage.

Plymouth had for some time been writing anxious letters to the Bay. Roger Williams had been sending warning messages from Providence, where he had carved himself a little settlement in the wilderness after banishment from Massachusetts. Boston paid scant attention until Haynes and Hooker both wrote from Connecticut describing the horrors of a Pequot massacre at Wethersfield. Nine of its inhabitants had been scalped and roasted alive; two girls had been captured.

That was different These were people whom the Bay Colony knew, for they had come from Watertown. The menace became real. The Bay hastily prepared for war.

Elizabeth was at Watertown as she had been since the day after her January visit to Mrs. Hutchinson. Robert had been in a fever to leave Boston before Winthrop should hear of Elizabeth’s disgraceful behaviour, and she, a little frightened herself, had obeyed his pleadings. She
was all the more willing because, as a climax to the strange experience
at
Mrs. Hutchinson’s and Elizabeth’s consequent remorseful softening towards Robert, they had come together again as man
and wife. he
had lain in her arms that night, and
she had known bodily release, and some contentment The contentment deepened when she shortly afterwards found that she was with child. Depressions and doubts vanished; in a state of calm well-being the ceased to think much of Mrs. Hutchison, especially as reports from Boston indicated that after the inconclusive hullabaloo over Wheelwright, the conflict had quietened. Nor obviously had Coddington reported Elizabeth’s visit after all.

Margaret’s occasional letters were as affectionate as usual, and ended as usual with “Your uncle sends his love, and prayers for your favour in Christ.” So Elizabeth was able to reassure Robert.

One morning, during the second week of May, Elizabeth was in her garden, sifting on a bench under the maple tree and trying to teach five children--her own and three of the Patricks’ - their letters from a hornbook. Discipline was difficult. Elisabeth herself was almost as distracted as
the children by the perfume of her growing herbs and flowers, the twittering of the birds in
a white-spangled cherry tree and the antics of the Feakes’ new puppy which imagined it had cornered some sort of enemy in the lush grass.

“Now children, again., said
Elizabeth, tapping her straw pointer on the hornbook, “What is this?”

“M?” said Liseth tugging at one of her flaxen curls. “M for mouse.”

“Not
M
- you silly,
”
cried Joan, shaking her brown head importantly. “That’s W isn’t it, Mama?”

“Which is it
,
Dan?” Elizabeth asked of Patrick’s young son, who was lying on his stomach teasing an earthworm, “Sit up and pay attention!”

He glanced at the hornbook, said, “I dunno, ma’am,” and yawned.

“Well, you’ve got to learn,” cried Elizabeth., “or I’ll tell your father to switch you, Stand up! All of you!”

They straggled to their feet and reluctantly recited in chorus as her straw moved up and down along the first two rows of the hornbook. “Big A, little a, Big B, little b - “ They had reached R when the youngest Patrick gave a delighted squeal and ran to the corner of the house to greet Daniel Patrick, who was dismounting from his horse,

“Faith, Bessie - “ he said, patting his offspring and advancing to the group, “ ‘Tis a pleasant schoolroom ye’ve found for yourself. How’s Danny at his letters?”

“Laggard,” said Elisabeth severely. “But I think he knows his catechism,” She turned to the boy. “Dan, what is the chief end of man?”

“Man’s-chief-end-is-t’-glorify-God-n’-enjoy-Him-forever,” said Danny glibly.

“What rule hath God given to direct us how we may glorify and enjoy him?”

“Word-O’-God-contained-in-Scriptures-Old-n’-New-Testament’s-only-rule-t’-direct-us-how-we-may-glor’fy-n’-enjoy-Him,” said Danny in one breath.

“Good. Good lad - “ interrupted Patrick hastily, before Elizabeth could continue. “I see we’ll not have that blasted tithing man on our necks again, thanks to you, Bess. ‘Ods body but I’d like to slice off his prying ferret nose fur him.”

Elizabeth made a warning gesture because of the listening children, but she thoroughly agreed. Job Blunt, the tithing man, had several duties beyond Keeping order on the Sabbath, and had recently made the scandalized discovery that the Patrick children had not been taught their catechism, an offence punishable by fines and public humiliation.

“Be off wi ye - childer,” said Patrick to the group. “School’s out fur the nonce’”

They obeyed with alacrity, scampering from the garden towards the river, except Lisbet, whose taste never ran to wild games.

“I want to talk to ye, Bess,” said Patrick, sitting down on the bench beside Elizabeth. “There’s news from Connecticut. From Underhill. The Pequots’re massing, they even dared attack Saybrook Fort, though little came of it. They’ve killed more settlers, at Hartford this time. We’ve not enough soldiers there. I’ve been summoned.”

“Well, that’s what you want, isn’t it?” asked Elizabeth, knowing how the big redheaded captain had chafed at being ordered to remain home on guard while Underhill sailed of with his force of twenty men to join Captain John Mason in Connecticut.

“Aye,” said Patrick, grinning at her. “I’ve no fancy to be left out when there’s a spot o’ fighting, though I’ve no special stomach fur shooting Indians as a rule. And if that damned old fool, Endecott, hadn’t stirred up all the Pequots last summer wi’ that hapless raid on Block Island, we wouldn’t have this wasp’s nest buzzing about our ears. Still and all, they
are
buzzing, and must be quelled.”

Elizabeth nodded and waited.

“They won’t let me leave for Connecticut till after the election, next Wednesday,” Patrick went on, frowning. “Expect trouble, they do, and want me and my men to stand by.”

“Trouble here?” said Elizabeth. “Over the election? Won’t Governor Vane be returned again?”

“Ha!” said Patrick. “Not if your uncle can stop it, and he’s taken mighty good care to stop it Election’s to be at Newtown so Vane and Mrs. Hutchinson’s Boston friends’ll have less chance. I tell ye, Bess, this squabble at the Bay’d make a cat die laughing! Folk going about hissing that they’re Works or Grace like in the old country they’d be Papist or Protestant. Only
that
made sense and I can’t make head or tail o’ this.”

“Nor I,” said Elizabeth. “Except - “ But even to Patrick, of whose understanding she was sure, she didn’t wish to speak of Anne Hutchinson.

“That’s not what I came to say,” said Patrick, pulling a dirty clay pipe from his leather

Elizabeth swallowed, astonished that she had not thought of this. “Why, yes, I suppose so,” she said uncertainly. “He’s your lieutenant, I know he’d want to go with
you”

Patrick glanced at her, his vivid Irish eyes clouded, and he stared at the cherry tree. Innocent Bess was, and unperceptive when it came to Robert, of whose peculiarities Patrick was well aware, and yet he had sympathy for the man quite aside from his admiring fondness for Bess. Back in the monastery near Armagh there had been one of the monks a bit like Robert, a quiet, meek man called Brother Edan who was forever telling his beads and at his devotions, gentle too with the younger brothers, who were all fond of him. And then one terrible night the Abbot found out something. Daniel, though he hadn’t understood much then, remembered yet the shocked horror that had swept the monastery, the hushed conferences in the chapter house, the special masses, the whisperings, and then the end - a week later - when Brother Edan had been found dangling in his cell, hanged by his own knotted scourge. God save his poor soul somehow, for it was madness did it - all of it – Daniel thought, and turned to see that Elizabeth was watching him uneasily. “Ye see, m’dear,” he said quickly, “I was just considering, would ye be content without your husband now, seeing that you’re breeding and all - and,” he added gently, “I’m not sure Robert’s what ye might call a fighting man.”

“No,” she agreed after a pause. “But I think he’d like to be.” Always Robert was happy for a while when starting a new venture, and when, he felt himself accepted in a world of men. But it didn’t seem to last. She sighed, and Patrick, who had been watching her, followed her thoughts enough to ask, “The settlement at Dedham’s come to naught for ye, hasn’t it? What happened?”

“In truth, I don’t know,” said Elizabeth. “Though he said he had a dream warning him not to settle there. I was dismayed at first, but then I thought it might be better if my babe were born here at Watertown, and Anneke to help me again.” She looked at him with her quick pretty smile that brought soft lights to her hazel eyes. “For both Robert and me, you Patricks seem our only true friends.”

“ ‘I faith!” he cried. “We feel so too!” He gave her a bear hug, kissed her on the cheek, and got up. “Where’s Robert now, in the fields with the men?”

She frowned, turning the hornbook over and over on her lap. “Nay,” she said at last, “I fear he’s gone to the burying ground. Somedays he goes there and sits amongst the gravestones, reading his Bible!”

“A pious pastime,” said Patrick with a grimace. “Doubtless edifies the godly, but not me. Aye, Bess, I’ll take him off to Connecticut, willy-nilly, at least knock some morbid dithers out o’ him.”

On the following Wednesday, May 17, the General Election was held at Newtown; an occasion fully as disturbed as had been expected. Governor Vane and those who had signed the Remonstrance wished it publicly read, Winthrop did not. Mr. Wilson clambered up the oak tree, and, perching on a lower limb like a stout angry crow, vehemently harangued the meeting. There were furious shouts. There were fist fights. There was tumult; which Winthrop, overriding Vane’s shrill protests, managed to quiet by a direct command that they ignore the petition, which had nothing to do with the election, and proceed at once to vote. He was greeted with cheers and hisses, but the cheers predominated. Winthrop had planned shrewdly when he had got the election moved to Newtown, which was far more accessible to the freemen of Watertown, Roxbury, Charlestown, and the towns on the North Shore than Boston. These other towns had not been impressed by Vane or influenced by Mrs. Hutchinson; they had been during the last weeks continually exhorted by their ministers.

John Winthrop was returned to office by a huge majority, Vane and his party suffered crushing defeat

Late that night Elizabeth heard of the election from Robert, who was jubilant. “A great day it was, wife,” he said happily, as he helped himself to an unaccustomed drink of sack. “So now after three years our uncle is Governor again, and we may all rejoice.”

“Except Mrs. Hutchinson and her family,” said Elizabeth on a dry note.

“Oh, they’ll see the error of their ways,” said Robert without interest. “They’ll have to. Wife, where’s my leather jerkin, and my sword belt? Daniel says we’ll be off tomorrow.”

She looked at him with attention. His fair skin was flushed from the sack and from excitement, his thin silver-gold hair was almost tousled, his long white fingers were restlessly tripping the hammer on his musket; while so often he was grey and wan, now he looked younger than his thirty-five years. “You’re not afraid, Robert dear?” she said. “And be careful of yourself, won’t you?” Suddenly she had realized he was going into danger and she felt compunction that she had not thought of this before. The inadequacy of her question and the tardiness of the emotion prompting it made her go to him and kiss him.

He responded with grateful surprise, as he always did to any overture from her. “Will you miss me, Bess?” he asked humbly. “I’d not leave you except Daniel says we’ll be back long before the babe comes.”

Daniel says, she thought, aye that was why she had had no fear for Robert; of course, they both leaned on the huge captain, as trustingly as did his own children. “To be sure I’ll miss you,” she said, “but I’m proud to have you go, and I shall be quite safe.”

During the next two months she was indeed safe enough at Watertown, which was now thickly populated, and there was nothing to fear from the local Indians of whom only a dozen or so had survived the smallpox three years ago. The days were hot, and Elizabeth’s pregnancy made her indolent, so that she skimped all but the most necessary chores, and wished fervently for a maid, even so inefficient a one as Sally had been. The little girls reluctantly helped with the dishwashing and bedmaking, and from time to time Elizabeth was able to hire the twelve-year-old daughter of her immediate neighbour to the east, Goodman William Bridges, but Dolly Bridges was a flighty child. If not constantly watched she incited Joan to naughtiness, and terrified little Lisbet with tales of ghosts, and a black man who hid under the stairs. Elizabeth preferred to do without her when she could. Besides herself and the children she had the two menservants to feed, her garden to tend, baking, brewing, rush peeling for candlewicks, malt and corn grinding, the stilling of necessary simples, and the constant mending of clothes and linen. There were now a few shops in Watertown, and Robert had left her supplied with several pounds, so that she could buy soap, sugar, and even wheat flour ground at the Watertown mill, but there was still so much to do that she fell exhausted into bed at night and after a vague prayer for Robert, slept without dreaming.