ust be heard
round the world, yet neither Cora Waters nor Adelpha Leisler, at whose
side I stood a comforter in the dark hours of trouble, has seen fit to
offer me one word of consolation."

"I trow, Charles, that Adelpha knows it not. Cora is coming."

"Who hath told you?"

"A friend from Boston brings information that the Waters brothers, with
the newly found wife and mother and Cora, are coming to Salem to do all
in their power to aid you."

Charles sadly shook his head and said:

"My poor friends can do nothing for me."

"They can at least offer you consolation and comfort."

"Yes; but what more?"

"That is much."

"True; and I will appreciate it. I could not think that Cora would
forget me. Neither would Adelpha, if she knew."

His mother after waiting some time for her son to resume, at last said:

"Charles, if your choice were left you, which of the two, Adelpha or
Cora, would you wed?"

Charles, smiling, answered:

"Mother, it is not for one living within the shadow of the scaffold to
think of marriage."

"Charles, can you really think your case so serious?"

"I do mother. I know it."

"Oh, Charles, surely they will not condemn you! They have no proof. You
are innocent."

"I am innocent, mother; but that is no reason that evidence will not be
produced against me."

"Yet it will be false."

"False, of course; yet many have been hung on testimony false as Satan
himself."

"Oh, Charles, what shall we do?"

"Trust in the Lord, mother. When all earthly help is gone, we can only
look to God for aid. I have prayed to him that, if it be his will, this
cup might pass; yet his will, not mine, be done. If I must die a martyr
to that woman's falsehood, I pray he may give me sufficient strength to
endure the trial."

The mother fell on the neck of her son, crying:

"You shall not die! Oh, my son! my son!"

Charles comforted his mother as well as he could, and she took her
leave. All was dark and gloomy. He knew that malice and hatred pursued
him, caught his throat and would not let go its hold, until it dragged
him to death. He was buried in the midst of his gloomy reflections, when
the door of his cell opened, and a jailer, entering, said:

"Another visitor for you, Charles Stevens."

"Another visitor? Who can it be?" he asked.

"It is I," and Samuel Parris entered.

For a moment, Charles Stevens was struck dumb at the audacity of the
pastor of Salem in venturing to enter the cell of o