Susannah. I never hurt man, woman, or
child.

Mercy Lewis cried out, "she hath hurt
me a great many times, and plucks me
down!"

Then Martin laughed again.

Mary Walcot said this woman hath hurt
her a great many times.

Susannah Sheldon also accused her of
hurting her.

Judge. What do you say to this?

Susannah. I have no hand in witchcraft.

Judge. What did you do? Did you consent
these should be hurt?

Susannah. No, never in my life.

Judge. What ails these people?

Susannah. I do not know.

Judge. But what do you think ails them?

Susannah. I do not desire to spend my
judgment upon it.

Judge. Do you think they are bewitched?

Susannah. I do not think they are.

Judge. But tell us your thoughts about
them.

Susannah. My thoughts are mine own
when they are in, but when they are out they
are another's. You said their master.

Judge. Who do you think is their master?

Susannah. If they be dealing in the Black
Art you may know as well as I.

Judge. What have you done towards the
hurt of these?

Susannah. I have done nothing.

Judge. Why it is you, or your appearance.

Susannah. I cannot help it.

Judge. That may be your master that hurts
them?

Susannah. I desire to lead my life according
to the Word of God.

Judge. Is this according to the word of
God?'

Susannah. If I were such a person, I would
tell you the truth.

Judge. How comes your appearance just
now to hurt these?

Susannah. How do I know?

Judge. Are you not willing to tell the
truth?

Susannah. I cannot tell: he who appeared
in Samuel's shape, a glorified shape, can
appear in any one's shape.

Judge. Do you believe these afflicted
persons do not say true?

Susannah. They may lie for aught I know.

Judge. May not you lie?

Susannah. I dare not tell a lie if it would
save my life.

Judge. Then you will speak the truth, will
you?

Susannah. I have spoken nothing else: I
would do them any good.

Judge. I do not think you have such
affection for those whom you just now
insinuated had the Devil for their master.

The marshal who stood by her said she
pinched her hands, and Eliza Hubbard was
immediately afflicted.

Several of the afflicted said they saw her
on the beam.

Judge. Pray God discover you if you be
guilty!

Susannah. Amen, amen! A false tongue
will never make a guilty person.

"You have been a long time coming to the
court to-day," said Mercy Lewis; " you can
come fast enough in the night."

A few lines of the manuscript were here
rather unintelligible.

John Indian fell into a fit, and cried it was
that woman. " She bites! She bites!"

And then they said Martin was biting
her lips.

Judge. Have you not compassion on these
afflicted?

Susannah. No; I have none!

They cried out, there was the black man
along with her; and Goody Bibber confirmed
it. Abigail Williams went towards her, but
could not come near her. Nor Goody Bibber,
though she had not accused her before. Also,
Mary Walcot could not come near her.

John Indian said he would kill her if he
came near her, but he fell down before he
could touch her.

Judge. What is the reason these cannot
come near you?

Susannah. I cannot tell: it may be that
the Devil bears me more malice than
another.

Judge. Do you not see God evidently
discovering you?

Susannah. No; not a bit for that.

Judge. All the congregation, besides, think
so.

Susannah. Let them think what they will.

Judge. What is the reason they cannot
come to you?

Susannah. I do not know: but they can if
they will; or else, if you please, I will come
to them.

Judge. What was that the black man
whispered to you?

Susannah. There was none whispered to me.

Here ends this fragment of examination.
We carefully turned over all the papers in the
hope of finding some further account of it,
but met with nothing more respecting
Susannah Martin save her death-warrant, of
which I much regret I did not also obtain a.
copy. The glimpse we had had of her,
however, had sufficed to arouse our warmest
sympathies, and to leave in us a strong desire to
learn more of a woman, whose truthful soul,
in the midst of peril, shone out so calmly
superior to its dark and malignant
surroundings. A few days after this visit I
quitted the neighbourhood of Boston, carrying
with me two distinct remembrances, at least --
the poor Frenchman's musical instrument,
and the replies of the martyred Witch of
Salem.