"Why did you come to Boston?" Cotton Mather asked as Milburn read.
"You heard what the jailer said just now." Milburn gave him a sidelong glance.
"That was what the judge said," Mather said. "I want to hear it from you."
Milburn did not answer. He closed the book in his hands.
"Parliament passed the Toleration Act. You cannot restrict our activities."
"Who are your enemies?" Mather asked.
"Enemies? You mean the Frenchmen?" Milburn asked.
"You can be more specific."
Milburn smiled. "I don't know what you mean."
Mather smiled as well. "Have you heard that legend?"
"What legend?"
"Boston has no god, which is why parents take their sick children to Salem to seek the Devil's help," Mather said.
Milburn's smile faded.
"My enemy is not humanity," Mather said. "You have read my books. My father and I are different. He believes it is better to let ten suspected witches go than to wrongly condemn one innocent citizen."
"And you study demonic possession and spectral evidence," Milburn said. "What do you want from me?"
"You have been in prison for some time. Have you heard anything strange?"
Milburn studied Mather.
"Why ask me?"
"I have seen enough convulsions and screaming. You seem fairly normal, and you are a pastor," Mather said.
Milburn burst out laughing. Once he was done, he said, "I thought only normal people got locked up these days."
Mather smiled. "Have you seen scenes as mad as those described in the books?"
"A little," Milburn said. "There was a girl who said her mother turned into a black cat every night to visit her."
"Who?"
"Sarah Carrier. I heard she and her family lived in Andover. In 1690, the entire family caught smallpox," Milburn said.
Mather fell silent for a while.
"Martha Carrier has already been