CHAPTER XVIII.

  Well, What Now?

  The crowd drew long breaths as they emerged from the meeting-house. Thiswas the first time that the accused had fully turned upon the accusers.It was a pity that it had not been done before; because such was thesuperstition of the day, that to have your death predicted by one whowas considered a witch was no laughing matter. The blood ran cold evenin Mistress Ann Putnam's veins, as she thought of Dulcibel's prediction;and the rest of the "afflicted" inwardly congratulated themselves thatthey had escaped her malediction, and resolved that they would not bepresent at her trial as witnesses against her, if they could possiblyavoid it. But then that might not be so easy.

  Even the crowd of beholders were a little more careful in the utteranceof their opinions about Dulcibel than they had been relative to theother accused persons. Not that they had much doubt as to the maiden'sbeing a born witch--the serpent-mark seemed to most of them a conclusiveproof of that--but what if one of those "spectres," the "yellow bird"or the uncontrollable "black mare" should be near and listening to whatthey were even then saying?

  "What do I think about it?" said one of the crowd to his companion. "WhyI think that if he who sups with the devil should have a long spoon, hewho abuses a witch should be certain her yellow bird is not listeningabove his left shoulder," and he gave a quick glance in the directionalluded to, while half of those near him, as they heard his warningwords, did the same. And there was not much talking against Dulcibelafter this, among that portion of the villagers.

  Ellis Raymond had heard this speech as he walked silently out of themeeting-house with Joseph Putnam, and a grim smile flitted over hisface. He felt prouder than ever of his beautiful betrothed. He was not aman who admired amazons or other masculine women, such, as in thesedays, we call "strong-minded;" he liked a woman to keep in her woman'ssphere, such as the Creator had marked out for her by making her awoman; but circumstances may rightly overrule social conventions, anddemand action suitable to the emergency. Standing at bay, among a packof howling wolves, the heroic is a womanly as well as manly quality;and the gun and the knife as feminine implements, as the needle and thescissors. Dulcibel had never reasoned about such things; she was amaiden who naturally shrank from masculine self-assertion and publicity;but, called to confront a great peril, she was true to the nobleinstincts of her family and her race, and could meet falsehood withindignant denial and contempt. How she had been led to utter thosepredictions she never fully understood--not at the time nor afterwards.She seemed to herself to be a mere reed through which some indignantangel was speaking.

  "Well," said Joseph Putnam, as they got clear of the crowd, "brotherThomas and sister Ann have wakened up the tiger at last. They will be"afflicted" now in dead earnest. Did you see how sister Ann, with allher assurance, grew pale and almost fainted? It serves her right; shedeserves it; and Thomas too, for being such a dupe and fool."

  "Do you think it will come true?" said Master Raymond.

  "Of course it will; the prediction will fulfill itself. Thomas issuperstitious beyond all reasonableness; and good Mistress Ann, mypious sister-in-law, is almost as bad as he is, notwithstanding herlies and trickery. Do you know what I saw that Leah Herrick doing?"

  "What was it?"

  "In her pretended spasms, when bending nearly double, she was taking alot of pins out of the upper edge of her stomacher with her mouth,preparatory of course, to making the accusation that it was Dulcibel'sdoings."

  "But she did not?"

  "No, it was just before the time that Dulcibel scared them so with thepredictions; and Leah was so frightened, lest she also should bepredicted against, that she quietly spit all the pins into her handagain."

  "Ah, that was the game played by a girl about ten years ago atTaunton-Dean, in England. Judge North told my father about it. One ofthe magistrates saw her do it."

  "Well, now, what shall we do? They will convict her just as surely asthey try her."

  "Undoubtedly!"

  "Shall we attack and break open the jail some dark night, sword in hand?I can raise a party of young men, friends of the imprisoned, to do it;they only want a leader."

  "And all of you go off into perpetual banishment and have all yourproperty confiscated?"

  "I do not care. I am ready to do it."

  "If you choose to encounter such a risk for others, I have no objection.I believe myself that if the friends and relatives of the accusedpersons would take up arms in defense of them, and demand their release,it would be the very manliest and most sensible thing they could do. Butthe consciences of the people here make cowards of them. They are all inbondage to a blind and conceited set of ministers, and to a narrow andbigoted creed."

  "Then what do you plan?"

  "Dulcibel's escape. You know that I managed to see her for a few minutesearly this morning. She has a friend within the prison. Wait till we geton our horses, and I will explain it all to you."

 
Henry Peterson's Novels