"False tool of Satan! Did not your shape come at me last night?"

"a.s.suredly not."

"Oh woman, woman! why will you speak so falsely? I saw you."

"When?"

"Last night, as I lay in my bed, you came and choked me, because I would not sign the little red book which you carried in your hand."

Filled with wonder, Charles Stevens turned his eyes upon Cora, whose face expressed blank amazement, and asked:

"What does this mean?"

"I take G.o.d to be my witness, that I know nothing of it, no more than the child unborn," she answered.

"Woe is the evil one, who speaks falsely when accused!" cried the enraged Sarah Williams. Then she closed her fist and made an effort to strike Cora, who, with a scream, shrunk from her.

"Hold, Sarah Williams! Don't judge hastily, or you may judge wrongly."

"Go to! hold your peace, Charles Stevens, for, verily, I know whereof I speak, when I charge that the shape of Cora Waters does grievously torment me."

"Are you mad?"

"No."

"Then of what do you accuse her?"

"She is a witch."

At this awful accusation both Charles and Cora shrunk back in dismay, and for a moment neither could speak; but Sarah Williams was not silent.

She continued upbraiding the unfortunate girl, heaping charge upon charge on her innocent head, until Cora felt as if she needs must sink beneath the load.

"You have bewitched my cows; my sheep and swine die mysteriously. Your form is seen oft at night riding through the air. My poultry die strangely and mysteriously, and my dog has fits. Even my poor cat hath fallen under the evil spell which you cast on all about me. Alas, Cora Waters, you are bold and bad. Charles Stevens, beware how you are seen about her, lest the wrath that will fall upon her head involve you in ruin."

Cora Waters, leaning against a tree, covered her face with her hands and murmured:

"Oh, G.o.d! wilt thou save me from the wrath of these misguided people?"

"See how she blasphemes! For a witch to call on the name of G.o.d is blasphemy of the very worst kind. Away, witch!" and Sarah stamped her foot in violence upon the ground.

"Stay, Cora!" Charles interposed, very calmly. Then he turned upon Sarah Williams, and added:

"You accuse her falsely, Sarah. Beware how you charge her of what the law makes a crime, or you may have to answer in a court for slander."

"Charles Stevens, beware how you defend the being at your side. She is an imp of darkness, and a day is coming when such will not be permitted to run at large. Beware! _beware!_ BEWARE!" and with the last command amounting almost to a shriek, she turned about and ran away.

Long Charles Stevens stood gazing after the retreating woman. The gentle breeze, stirring the leaves of the sweet-scented forest, bore pleasant odors to them, the birds sang their sweet peaceful songs, while a squirrel, with a nut in its paws, skipped nimbly over the leaves near and, pausing, reared upon its hind legs and looked at them from its bright little eyes, while the flowers nodded their gaudy little heads as if to invite every one to be glad; but Charles and Cora saw not all these beauties of nature. She stood leaning against the friendly trunk of a giant oak, and turned her eyes on him with a look of helpless appeal and agony. He was so dazed by the bold accusation, that he could not speak for several seconds. She was first to regain her speech.

"She, too, is my enemy."

"Yes," he answered.

"I have no friend----" she began.

"Don't say that, Cora. While mother and I live, you have two friends,"

he interrupted.

"Yes--yes; I had not forgotten you; but you may be powerless to aid me.

I learned that they were going to arrest and try some of the accused people for witches. It is terrible," she added with a shudder. "In England they burn witches at the stake. My father saw one thus roasted.

He said it did touch him with tenderness to see the gallant way she met her fate--cursing and reviling the hooting mob gathered about her, whilst the angry flames, leaping upward, licked her face, caught her locks, crackling about her old gray head. I trow it was a sorry sight, and G.o.d be praised, I never saw such a one!"

"You never will, Cora, for those days are pa.s.sed. We live in a more enlightened and humane age. People are not burned to death now, as they used to be. We are safe under the shelter of humane and wise laws."

Charles was mistaken. Human laws have never been perfect or just, and mankind will never be safe while laws are interpreted by partial magistrates. Laws are never perfect, for, were they, continual amendments would be unnecessary.

On their way home, Charles and Cora were compelled to pa.s.s the Salem church. As they did so, they met Mr. Parris face to face, as he was coming out of the sanctuary whither he had gone to pray. He paused near the door and, fixing his large gray eyes on the unfortunate maid, glared at her much as an angry lion might gaze on the object of its hatred; then he turned away on his heel with something about the children of darkness profaning the house of the Lord.

Cora shuddered as long as he was in sight, and when he had disappeared, she said:

"Surely, he is a bad man!"

They resumed their walk to the house. Though neither spoke, they went slowly, each buried in thought. The gentle zephyrs, the frisking squirrels, the nodding flowers, the singing birds, were all unheeded by them. When the home was reached, he found his mother standing in the door, her face almost deathly white.

Though she said nothing, he knew she was greatly disturbed. Her wheel stood idle, the great heap of wool rolls lying unspun at the side of it.

She smiled faintly and, as Cora pa.s.sed into the little room set apart for her, turned her eyes anxiously to her son.

"Mother, has any one been here since we left?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Was it Mr. Parris?"

"It was."

"We saw him come out of the church as we pa.s.sed."

"He was here but a moment since."

Then Charles felt that something had been said to his mother to occasion alarm, and he asked her what it was.

"He advised me to warn you to flee from the wrath to come. He said you would be involved in ruin ere you knew it, if you continued in your present course."

"What did he mean?"

"He referred to her," and Mrs. Stevens significantly nodded toward the apartment in which Cora was. Charles had expected this answer. He went slowly to the door and looked down the road to see if the pastor was still in sight; but he was not. Only the broad, well-beaten thoroughfare, with the great, old trees standing on either side, and the blue sea beyond the hill, with the village in the valley were visible.

The youth's heart was full of bitterness, and the manner in which his mother's words were spoken was not calculated to allay the storm within his breast. Though her words did not say so, her manner indicated that she shared the opinions of Mr. Parris. Turning from the door, Charles went toward her and said:

"Mother, whatever he said of her is false. I know he hates Cora, that he would make her one of the emissaries of Satan; but his charges are false. You know--you must know that she is a pure, good girl."