What is their entering their names in a book, their coming together from all parts at the sound of a trumpet, their appearing sometimes clothed with light and fire upon them, then covering themselves and their instruments with invisibility? Are not all these but a blasphemous imitation of certain things recorded about our Saviour, or his prophets, or the saints in the kingdom of G.o.d?"

"Mr. Parris," said Charles, when the fanatic had paused in his wild harangue for want of breath, "you seem in earnest; but you must bear in mind that there is a mistaken zeal----"

"Hold, Charles, I know what you would say; but G.o.d has opened my eyes to the abominations of witchcraft."

"So Bishop Mendoza thought, when he ordered the innocent slain. Beware of false prophets, Mr. Parris. They are more to be dreaded than the protean devil of which you speak. Be sure that you remove the beam from your own eye, before you try to see the mote in the eye of your brother."

The sallow face of the fanatic grew more ghastly than before. His teeth gnashed, and his great eyes seemed starting in hatred from his head.

Seizing the wrist of Charles with his hand, he clutched it so tightly as to almost make him cry out in pain.

"Charles, Charles, why persecutest thou me? Have not the scales of infidelity fallen from your eyes? Would you deny the power of G.o.d?"

Charles Stevens, by an effort, freed his hand and, with a boldness which increased as he spoke, answered:

"It is not G.o.d whom I deny, but man. G.o.d is good and just and kind. He who, in the name of the Lord, would pervert His holy word is an impostor and blasphemer more base than a thief or an infidel."

"Charles, beware!"

"I have listened patiently to you, Mr. Parris. Now listen to me. Where do you find in Scripture justification for the charges you lay at the doors of innocent people such as Goody Nurse, Goody Easty, Goody Cloyse and the poor little maid Cora Waters? What harm have they ever done you, that you, as a Christian man, might not forgive them?"

"Charles----" interrupted Mr. Parris.

"Hold, sir; you shall hear me through. Mr. Parris, you must be a man of singular shamelessness, craft, ruthlessness and impudence, withal. You began your operations with sharp bargaining about your stipend and sharp practice in appropriating the house and land a.s.signed for the use of successive pastors. You wrought so diligently, under the stimulus of your ambition, that you have got the meeting-house sanctioned as a true church and yourself ordained as the first pastor of Salem Village.

Because you were opposed by Goody Nurse, her sisters and others, you seek to charge them with offences made punishable under our laws with death."

The sallow face of the pastor grew almost white; but, in a voice of forced calmness, he said:

"Go on--go on!"

"No; it is for you to tell, without further discussion, why you brought me here. Rather let me guess it. You have brought me to say something to me about Cora Waters. You have come to tell me she is a witch, and I tell you it is false."

The pa.s.sionate minister glared at the youth for a moment and said:

"Charles, do you deny that she is the child of a player?"

"I do not; but what sin follows being the child of a player, or being even a player? Nowhere does the Bible condemn the actor for his profession; and, if the player be G.o.dly, his calling is un.o.bjectionable.

Oh, Mr. Parris, eradicate from your heart the deadly poison of prejudice, and there will appear no harm in that fair, innocent and much-abused young maid. She has ever been a child of sorrow and of tears, one who never in thought wronged any one. Tell me that child is a witch? Mr. Parris, it is false!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Then you may both go down--down to the infernal regions together!"]

"Then," cried the pastor, suddenly changing his tone, turning to Charles, and bringing his clenched hand down upon the stone fence with a force that laid the knuckles raw and bleeding; "then you may both go down--down to the infernal regions together!" The dark look of hatred and revenge with which the words broke from his livid lips, and with which he stood holding out his bruised and bleeding hand, made Charles shudder and turn to go home; but the pastor caught his arm.

"Mr. Parris, let me go. I have heard quite enough. We understand each other thoroughly."

"And you will not give her up?"

"Never."

"Verily, she hath bewitched you."

"I do not believe in witchcraft."

"What! Do you deny the word of G.o.d? Have a care! You are going too far in this. And your mother?"

"She does not believe in it, either."

"Charles, why have you and your mother grievously opposed me?" he demanded, his eyes glaring with hatred and his breath coming hard, while a white froth, tinged with blood, exuded from his lips.

"Because you are a bad man, Mr. Parris," cried Charles. "You are a saintly fraud."

The rage of the pastor knew no bounds. Pointing his wounded and bleeding hand at Charles, he cried:

"Go! and may the curse of an outraged G.o.d go with you!"

Charles went home.

CHAPTER XI.

ADELPHA LEISLER.

Oh, my luve's like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June; Oh, my luve's like the melodie, That's sweetly played in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie la.s.s, So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry.

--Burns.

There are moments in every life when the soul hovers on some dark brink.

It may be the brink of atheism, of despair, of crime, or superst.i.tion.

Outside influences go far toward impelling life's voyager on his course.

If the current takes a sudden turn, it bears him in a different direction from which he had intended. The human mind is inexplicable. It is not a machine that can be taken apart and a.n.a.lyzed. It is not material that can be grasped and comprehended. It is that mysterious knowing, feeling and willing, independent of circ.u.mstances; that immortal, indestructible portion of man called soul. It is governed by no known laws, and at times seems to a.s.sume all the caprices of chance.

Charles Stevens was a youth of good strong, common sense; yet he could but feel strangely impressed by the words and the awful look of Mr.

Parris. The man was surely more than mortal. His voice, hollow and sepulchral, seemed to issue from the tomb. His thin, cadaverous face was sufficient in itself to inspire wonder. Those great, blazing eyes had within them all the fires of lunacy, fanaticism and cunning. Mr. Parris was nothing more than an unscrupulous bigot. He was ambitious, as is proven by his machinations in getting himself declared the pastor of Salem. He was greedy, as is shown by his taking the parsonage and lands as well as demanding an increase in his stipend. He was revengeful, as is shown by the way in which he persecuted those who opposed him. He was unscrupulous in his methods, as is proven in the means he employed. He was filled with prejudice, as is shown in his a.s.sailing Cora Waters, because her father was an actor; yet Mr. Parris believed himself a righteous and holy man, walking in the path of the just.

Charles Stevens failed to tell his mother of the strange interview with the pastor, somehow he could not. He unaccountably shuddered when he thought of it, and, despite the fact that he had little superst.i.tion in his composition, he felt at times a strange instinctive dread at the awful warning of the pastor.

Since the evening on which the name of Adelpha Leisler had been mentioned, Cora Waters had been strangely shy and reticent, so that Charles Stevens could not tell her of the interview with Mr. Parris, even if he would. Cora was a remarkable girl. She united in the highest perfection the rarest of earthly gifts--genius and beauty. No one possesses superior intellectual qualities without knowing it. The alliteration of modesty and merit is pretty enough; but where merit is great, the veil of that modesty never disguises its extent from its possessor. It is the proud consciousness of rare qualities, not to be revealed to the every-day world, that gives to genius that shy, reserved and troubled air, which puzzles and flatters you, when you encounter it.

Cora realized her beauty and genius; but, with that charming versatility, that of right belongs to woman, she had the faculty of bending and modelling her graceful intellect to all whom she met.

Her rare genius, however, could not brook the cold reproofs of the bigoted Parris. The flower which might have ornamented his chapel and filled the little church with sweetest perfume was withered by the chilling frosts of bigotry and prejudice. A player could yield no perfume for Christ, and the sweet, musical voice was stilled, and the heart so full of love, emotion and religion was chilled and driven into exile; but she lived and hoped in her own little world. The sunlight of love was on her heart, until the name of Adelpha Leisler shut out that sunlight and left all in darkness and despair.

Though Cora was excommunicated for being the child of a player, she never let go her hold on Christ. Her father, strolling actor as he was, had taught her to look to G.o.d for everything, and in her hour of trial, she knelt in the seclusion of her own room and prayed that this cup might pa.s.s from her lips, if it be the Lord's will; but if not, she asked G.o.d to give her strength to bear her suffering and trials. She freely forgave Mr. Parris, for she believed his persecution of herself and others was through mistaken zeal.

With Charles Stevens, she was more shy than she used to be. She kept aloof from him for two or three days, until her conduct became noticeable, and Charles one day sought her in the garden for an explanation.

"Have I offended you, Cora?" he asked.