awning the victim of that horrible charge walked forth,
without her manacles. Yet dark suspicion hung about the beldam to the
last, and she died, as she had lived, alone in the little cabin that
stood near the site of the academy. Even after her demise the villagers
could with difficulty summon courage to enter her cot and give her
burial. Her body was tumbled into a pit, hastily dug near her door, and a
stake was driven through the heart to exorcise the powers of evil that
possessed her in life.

GENERAL MOULTON AND THE DEVIL

Jonathan Moulton, of Hampton, was a general of consequence in the
colonial wars, but a man not always trusted in other than military
matters. It was even hinted that his first wife died before her time, for
he quickly found consolation in his bereavement by marrying her
companion. In the middle of the night the bride was awakened with a
start, for she felt a cold hand plucking at the wedding-ring that had
belonged to the buried Mrs. Moulton, and a voice whispered in her ear,
"Give the dead her own." With a scream of terror she leaped out of bed,
awaking her husband and causing candles to be brought. The ring was gone.

It was long after this occurrence that the general sat musing at his
fireside on the hardness of life in new countries and the difficulty of
getting wealth, for old Jonathan was fond of money, and the lack of it
distressed him worse than a conscience. "If only I could have gold
enough," he muttered, "I'd sell my soul for it." Whiz! came something
down the chimney. The general was dazzled by a burst of sparks, from
which stepped forth a lank personage in black velvet with clean ruffles
and brave jewels. "Talk quick, general," said the unknown, "for in
fifteen minutes I must be fifteen miles away, in Portsmouth." And picking
up a live coal in his fingers he looked at his watch by its light. "Come.
You know me. Is it a bargain?"

The general was a little slow to recover his wits, but the word "bargain"
put him on his mettle, and he began to think of advantageous terms. "What
proof may there be that you can do your part in the compact?" he
inquired. The unknown ran his fingers through his hair and a shower of
guineas jingled on the floor. They were pretty warm, but Moulton, in his
eagerness, fell on hands and knees and gathered them to his breast.

"Give me some liquor," then demanded Satan, for of course he was no
other, and filling a tankard with rum he lighted it with the