February 2, 1692 Dear Little Book, As I sit here curled in my covers, I glance out my window and see the sun begin to rise. And though it is morning, I am shaky from lack of sleep. That is because last night, at midnight, I went quietly out of the house. I had made a plan to go the courthouse and free Old Myr before her hanging. As I hurried down the road, wearing my shawl closed tightly over my head so no one would recognize me, I couldn't help but worry about what would become of me if anyone found out. Would the Lord punish me? Or would I be tried as a witch myself? I shuddered to think of the consequences, but continued on my way. I suppose I hadn't though my plan through entirely, because I wasn't expecting for there to be a guard outside the jail. Being the strongheaded girl I am, I took no heed and sat down behind some brush to ponder my situatation. If I went in through the window, I finally decided, the guard would not see me and I would be able to save Old Myr's life. And so I fumbled in the dark until I came to the window. As expected there was no guard inside. Thinking myself to be very clever, I raised one leg and slung it over the windowsill, into the room beyond. As I was about to do the same with my other leg, the first kicked against the wood-paneled wall, and the sound echoed throughout the jail. I struggled frantically to step down from the windowsill so I could run away, but it was no use. My boot was caught onto a piece of wood lattice that was gracing the inner jailhouse wall. I heard the door bang, and saw the figure of the guard standing in the open doorway. "Who's there?" he called, and ran toward the window. Thank God, I was finally able to free myself. I tumbled to the ground outside the jail, and dashed back home. Though I am saved, Old Myr is not. And she will be hanged at noon today. I do not think I can bear to watch, so I will not go to the hanging. Please, God, I beg of you, at least let her rest in peace.