the proof, for it had been whispered that Hota
had named others, and some among the most
religious families of Salem, whom she had seen
among the unholy communicants at the sacrament
of the Evil One. And Grace replied that
she would answer for it, all godly folk would
stand the proof, and quench all natural affection
rather than that such a sin should grow and
spread among them. She herself had a weak bodily
dread of witnessing the violent death even of
an animal; but she would not let that deter her
from standing among those who cast the
accursed creature out from among them on the
morrow morning.

Contrary to her wont, Grace Hickson told her
family much of this conversation. It was a sign
of her excitement on the subject that she thus
spoke, and the excitement spread in different
forms through her family. Faith was flushed and
restless, wandering between the keeping-room
and the kitchen, and questioning her mother
particularly as to the more extraordinary parts
of Hota's confession, as if she wished to satisfy
herself that the Indian witch had really done
those horrible and mysterious deeds.

Lois shivered and trembled with affright at
the narration, and the idea that such things
were possible. Occasionally she found herself
wandering off into sympathetic thought for the
woman who was to die, abhorred of all men, and
unpardoned by God, to whom she had been so
fearful a traitor, and who was now, at this very
time—when Lois sat among her kindred by the
warm and cheerful firelight, anticipating many
peaceful—perchance happy—morrows— solitary,
shivering, panic-striken, guilty, with none to
stand by her and exhort her, shut up in darkness
between the cold walls of the town prison. But
Lois almost shrank from sympathising with so
loathsome an accomplice of Satan, and prayed
for forgiveness for her charitable thought; and
yet, again, she remembered the tender spirit of
the Saviour, and allowed herself to fall into piety,
till at last all her sense of right and wrong
became so bewildered that she could only leave all
in God's hands, and just ask that He would
take all creatures and all events into His hands.

Prudence was as bright as if she were listening
to some merry story—curious as to more
than her mother would tell her—seeming to
have no particular terror of witches or witchcraft,
and yet to be especially desirous to accompany
her mother the next morning to the hanging.
Lois shrank from the cruel, eager face of
the young girl as she begged her mother to allow
her to go. Even Grace was disturbed and
perplexed by her daughter's pertinacity.

"No!" said she. "Ask me no more. Thou
shalt not go. Such sights are not for the young.
I go, and I sicken at the thoughts of it. But I
go to show that I, a Christian woman, take God's
part against the devil's. Thou shalt not go, I
tell thee. I could whip thee for thinking of it."

"Manasseh says Hota was well whipped by
Pastor Tappau ere she was brought to confession,"
said Prudence, as if anxious to change the
subject of discussion.

Manasseh lifted up his head from the great
folio Bible, brought by his father from England,
which he was studying. He had not heard what
Prudence said, but he looked up at the sound of
his name. All present were startled at his wild
eyes, his bloodless face. But he was evidently
annoyed at the expression of their countenances.

"Why look ye at me in that manner?" asked
he. And his manner was anxious and agitated.
His mother made haste to speak:

"It was but that Prudence said something
that thou hast told her—that Pastor Tappau
defiled his hands by whipping the witch Hota.
What evil thought has got hold of thee? Talk
to us, and crack not thy skull against the learning
of man."

"It is not the learning of man that I study:
it is the word of God. I would fain know more
of the nature of this sin of witchcraft, and
whether it be, indeed, the unpardonable sin
against the Holy Ghost. At times I feel a creeping
influence coming over me, prompting all evil
thoughts and unheard-of deeds, and I question
within myself, 'Is not this the power of witchcraft?'
and I sicken and loathe all that I do or
say, and yet some evil creature hath the mastery
over me, and I must needs do and say what I
loathe and dread. Why wonder you, mother,
that I, of all men, strive to learn the exact
nature of witchcraft, and for that end study the
word of God? Have you not seen me when I
was, as it were, possessed with a devil?"

He spoke calmly, sadly, but as under deep
conviction. His mother rose to comfort him.

"My son," she said, "no one ever saw thee
do deeds, or heard thee utter words, which any
one could say were prompted by devils. We
have seen thee, poor lad, with thy wits gone
astray for a time, but all thy thoughts sought
rather God's will in forbidden places, than lost
the clue to them for one moment in hankering
after the powers of darkness. Those days are
long past; a future lies before thee. Think
not of witches or of being subject to the power
of witchcraft. I did evil to speak of it before thee.
Let Lois come and sit by thee, and talk to thee."

Lois went to her cousin, grieved at heart
for his depressed state of mind, anxious to soothe
and comfort him, and yet recoiling more than
ever from the idea of ultimately becoming his
wife—an idea to which she saw her aunt reconciling
herself unconsciously day by day, as she
perceived the English girl's power of soothing
and comforting her cousin, even by the very
tones of her sweet cooing voice.

He took Lois's hand.

"Let me hold it. It does me good," said he.
"Ah, Lois, when I am by you I forget all my troubles—
will the day never come when you will listen
to the voice that speaks to me continually?"

"I never hear it, Cousin Manasseh," she
said, softly; "but do not think of the voices.
Tell me of the land you hope to enclose from the
forest—what manner of trees grow on it?"

Thus, by simple questions on practical
affairs, she led him back in her unconscious
wisdom to the subjects on which he had always