osed 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 superstitious 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 superstitions. 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