When the physicians of
the district could see no explanation of the ailments of the afflicted
children "but the evil hand," they, with one accord, came to the
conclusion that their afflictions were through the agencies of Satan.

Convulsions and epilepsy are among the many mysteries which medical
science has not mastered to this day, and one cannot wonder that the
doctors two centuries ago should declare the afflicted ones bewitched.
Then came the inquiry as to who had stricken the children, and the
readiest means that occurred was to ask this question of the children
themselves. At first they refused to disclose any names; but there was
soon an end to any such delicacy. The first prominent symptoms occurred
in November, 1691, and the first public examination of witches took
place March 1st, 1692, just before the return of Charles Stevens from
New York.

One among the first arrested was Sarah Good, a weak, ignorant, poor,
despised woman, whose equally weak and ignorant husband had abandoned
her, leaving her to the mercy of evil tongues. This ignorant woman was
taken to jail, and, shortly after, her child, little Dorcas, only four
years old, was also arrested and imprisoned in chains on charge of
witchcraft. All this met the approval of Mr. Parris, whose pale, thin
face glowed with triumph as he declared:

"Now is the coming of the Lord, and the consumption of the fire-brands
of hell."

No wonder Charles Stevens was serious. Over twenty people were in prison
on charge of witchcraft, among them an Irish woman, a Roman Catholic,
hated more on account of her religion than any suspicion of evil against
her. She was among the first to hang.

Parris, the wild-eyed fanatic, swinging his arms about, walked up and
down the village, crying against the evil spirits of the air and longing
to get his clutches on the vile actor, who had dared enter the
consecrated village of Salem.

One evening Mr. Waters returned as mysteriously as he had disappeared.
His daughter was greatly rejoiced to see him and, after the joy of the
first greeting was over, told of all that was transpiring and of the
threats of Mr. Parris.

"You must go away," he said.

"When?" she asked.

"On the morrow."

Charles had a short talk with Mr. Waters, and arrangements were made for
the departure of Cora on the morrow. Mr. Waters retired late that night
to his room. As he was in the act of undressing, he became conscious
that a face was pressed against