Entry Four

Three month. Ninety day. Countless hours, countless minutes. For me, it is an eternity and an instant, forever and nothing. Three month it has been since John was jailed here, mayhap a week longer I've been. A second seemed to last hours, but now it all seems so long ago.

John has died. The words flow reluctantly, but they must flow. John has died. He died in the best way he could have. He died for what he believed, doing what he thought right, and that is the most anyone can do. His faith was strong, he trusted in God. Right up to the end, he considered carefully, after three month in the dungeon, he died.

So many have died. Giles Corey, pressed to death. More weight, more weight, he said. May his spirit ever haunt those that killed him. Rebecca, on the same day as John. All of them, so full of conviction, goodness. May those that killed them one day see the truth, the horror in what they did.

Those that died did the right thing. In my last words with John, he pleaded with me to forgive him. Forgive him! It was I should have asked his forgiveness; I cannot judge him. None may judge others; that is for God to do. Do as you will, I said, and he did, he did what he thought right. He saw clearly in that last day; he recognized God and God alone as his judge, the only one to whom he was accountable, and he conducted himself accordingly.

My last sight of him was as he mounted the steps of the gibbet. At the top he glanced once in my direction, even far away as I was, and inside too, and then he turned to his place and out of my view. As the drums played, my heart began to race, faster and faster, then once they crashed and then fell silent, and with them, my heart seemed to stop. I sank down to the ground, overcome, stunned, finally absorbing the impact of the madness in this town, and would have stayed there 'til dead, but for the baby.

In the midst of the blur that came, I felt my baby move. It was the only thing shielding me from dying with John and Rebecca and the others, and I determined then that once it is born, I will shield it in return. Praise be to God for this baby!

These events have made the world gone mad and close its ears to reason, but ultimately, this world matters little. John, all of them now, are in heaven, they are in God's care. There's little to fear from this world, because the next is always waiting. The worst punishment from this world is to be sent on. I have no fear of that.