The Witch of Salem Part 17

"Danger never will be over, until there has been a revolution in the government."

Long did Charles ponder over those mysterious words, and ask himself what they meant. He again conferred with his mother, and when she had heard all he had to tell, she was constrained to ask:

"Who are they?"

Mrs. Stevens, like her son, was too well bred to pry into the secrets of her guests. A few days later Mr. Waters again disappeared and was not seen for two months.

It was at the close of a sultry day in July that Mr. John Louder and his neighbor Bly were returning from Boston in a cart. As usual, their conversation was of the solemn kind, characteristic of the Puritan. The many mysteries in nature and out of nature formed their princ.i.p.al topic.

Each had had his long, ardent conflict with sin and Satan.

Each was a firm believer in personal devils and legions of devils. The spirits of the air were thought to be all about them, even at that very moment.

"Neighbor Bly, I believe that she is a witch," said Louder.

"Verily, even so do I."

"If the magistrates would so adjudge her, she would, according to the laws, be hung."

"Truly she would. I saw her shape again last night."

"Did you?"

"Yes, she came to my bed and did grievously torment me, by sitting for fully two hours upon my chest."

"Why did you not call upon the name of G.o.d, and she would have gone?"

"Fain would I have done so, had it been possible; but her appearance took from me the power of speech, and I was dumb. She sat upon me, grinning at me, and she said:

"'Would ye speak if ye could?'

"Then at last a yellow bird came in at the window and whispered some words in her ear, and the shape flew away with a black man."

"Verily, neighbor Bly, you have been grievously tormented; yet little worse is your case than my own. My cattle are bewitched and die. The witches hurl b.a.l.l.s at them from any distance, which strike them, and they shrink and die at once. The other morn I had salted my cows, when one suddenly showed strange signs of illness and soon fell on her side and did die. Neighbor Towne, who witnessed it, said the poor beast was struck with a witch ball. He says they gather the hair from the back of the afflicted beasts and, making a ball of it from the spittle of their mouths, blow their breath upon it and hurl it any distance to an object.

The object so struck will at once wither and die. He said that, should I strip the hair from the spine of the dead brute, a ball made of it would strike down any other beast of the herd, even if thrown by my own hand."

With a sigh, Bly said:

"Truly, we live in the age when the devil is to be loosed for a little season. Would to Heaven, St. John would again chain the dragon."

The sun had almost dipped behind the long line of blue hills. A listless repose, peculiar to New England autumns, seemed to have settled over the hills and valleys about the neighborhood of Salem. A drowsy, dreamy influence overhung land and sea and pervaded the very atmosphere. No wonder that the superst.i.tious Puritans of that day and age believed the place bewitched. Certain it is, that it seemed under the same power, that held strange spells over the minds of the good people, causing them to walk in a continual revery. These early Puritans were given to all kinds of marvellous beliefs, as we have seen, subjected to trances and visions, and frequently saw strange sights, and heard wonderful noises in the air. All Salem abounded with local tales, haunted spots and twilight superst.i.tions. Shooting stars and flaming meteors were more often seen about that enchanted spot, than in any other part of the country.

The two travellers silently jogged along in the cart, casting occasional glances down the road. Just before reaching Salem, the road dipped below the trees, which concealed some glens and breaks, above which only the church, standing in the suburb of the village, could be seen. The sequestered situation of the meeting-house seemed to have always made it a favorite resort for troubled spirits. It stood on a knoll, surrounded by beech trees and lofty elms, from among which its decent whitewashed walls shone modestly forth, as the only bright object among so much sombre gloom and shade. A broad path wound its way down a gentle slope to the creek, which emptied into the bay, bordered by tall trees, through which glimpses of the sea and blue hills might be caught.

Between the travellers and the church extended a wide, woody dell, along which the brook roved among broken rocks and trunks of fallen trees.

Over a deep, black part of the stream was thrown a bridge. The road which led up to it was thickly shaded, and in places indistinguishable at any great distance by overhanging trees, which cast a gloom about it, even in daytime, but occasioned a fearful darkness at night. This place was reputed to be a favorite resort for the witches of Salem, for they had frequently been seen dancing upon the bridge.

It was with some degree of nervousness that the travellers drew near to the bridge. The sun had dipped behind the blue hills of the west, and the pale, lambent glow of the evening star shot athwart the sky, ere the bridge was reached. While it was yet twilight in the uplands, it was night here. The hollow sounds of the horse's feet on the bridge chilled the hearts of the occupants of the cart, and when the outline of a horse and rider appeared on the other side, Louder seized Bly by the arm and gasped:

"G.o.d save us! Where did they come from? They were not there a moment before."

"They rose up out of the ground."

Their horse, which was very much frightened, would have dashed down the road had not the horseman brought his steed directly across their path.

"Your beast seems affrighted," coolly remarked the horseman.

At sound of his voice, Louder gave utterance to a wild yell of dismay.

The horse stood trembling and refused to move the cart an inch. Louder rose from the seat and glared through the deepening gloom at the stranger. That white face, those great, sad eyes once seen could never be forgotten. He uttered a yell of horror, crying:

"Begone, wizard! The armor of G.o.d be between me and thee! Fiend of the regions of darkness, it was thou who offered me the book to sign. Away!

begone! tempt me no more, for, by the grace of Heaven, I defy you! I will not sign!"

At this moment, the horse at the cart, seeing an opening in the road, dashed on to the village, leaving the horseman gazing in mute wonder after them. His white face wore a puzzled and pained look. He turned his horse's head into another path, saying:

"It has been some years since I was here, and yet, if I mistake not, this is surely the path that leads to her house."

Thirty minutes later, the same horseman drew rein in front of the widow Stevens' cottage and, dismounting, tied his horse to a small tree and approached the house. A light was s.h.i.+ning through the window, and the whirr of the wheel told that the industrious widow was at her evening work. He rapped at the door and was bidden enter. On entering, he discovered that three persons occupied the cottage--the widow, her son and a beautiful, sunny-haired maiden. The latter started up at his appearance, crying:

"Father! father!" and, leaping forward, threw her arms about his neck.

The new-comer looked in amazement upon the girl, but made no answer.

"Father, father, why don't you speak?"

"There is some mistake!" he began.

"Are you not my father?"

"I never saw you before, little maid."

Then Cora started back and gave the stranger a curious glance. He looked exactly like her father, save that he was dressed almost wholly in buckskin, and had a wild, forest-like appearance. Then, as she scrutinized him more closely, she perceived a slight scar on his left cheek. This was not on her father's face.

"You are not my father; but you are very like him," she said.

"I am not your father, little maid. I came to thank these people for their kindness to me a few years ago."

"Are you he whom I found by the brook, wounded and dying?" asked Charles.

"I am."

"Your mysterious disappearance occasioned much comment."

Before the stranger could frame an answer, the door was again thrown open, and this time it was Cora's father, in reality, who entered the house. She sprang to him, saying:

"Father, I see now there is a difference between you and him!"

For the first time, George Waters saw the stranger. As their eyes met, each started, gazed at the other a moment, as if to be a.s.sured he was right, and then George Waters cried:

"Harry!"