ul witch, and half a Quaker, besides."

"But do you really believe in witches, uncle Robie?"

"What do these deuced Barebones Puritans know about witches, or the
devil, or anything else? There is only one true church, Mistress
Dulcibel. I have sa mooch respect for the clergy as any man; but I don't
take my sailing orders from a set of sourfaced old pirates."

Then, leaving her a candle and telling her to keep up a stout heart, the
jailer left the cell; and Dulcibel heard the heavy bolt again drawn upon
her, with a much lighter heart, than before. Examining the bundle of
clothes that Goodwife Buckley had made up, she found that nothing
essential to her comfort had been forgotten, and she soon was sleeping
as peacefully in her prison cell as if she were in her own pretty little
chamber.

CHAPTER XVII.

Dulcibel before the Magistrates.

The next afternoon the meeting-house at Salem village was crowded to its
utmost capacity; for Dulcibel Burton and Antipas Newton were to be
brought before the worshipful magistrates, John Hathorne and Jonathan
Corwin. These worthies were not only magistrates, but persons of great
note and influence, being members of the highest legislative and
judicial body in the Province of Massachusetts Bay.

Among the audience were Joseph Putnam and Ellis Raymond; the former
looking stern and indignant, the latter wearing an apparently cheerful
countenance, genial to all that he knew, and they were many; and
especially courteous and agreeable to Mistress Ann Putnam, and the
"afflicted" maidens. It was evident that Master Raymond was determined
to preserve for himself the freedom of the village, if complimentary and
pleasant speeches would effect it. It would not do to be arrested or
banished, now that Dulcibel was in prison.

When the constable, Joseph Herrick, brought in Dulcibel, he stated that
having made "diligent search for images and such like," they had found a
"yellow bird," of the kind that witches were known to affect; a wicked
book of stage-plays, which seemed to be about witches, especially one
called "he-cat"; and a couple of rag dolls with pins stuck into them.

"Have you brought them?" said Squire Hathorne.

"We killed the yellow bird and threw it and the wicked book into the
fire."

"You should not have done that; you should have produced them here."

"We can get the book yet; for it was lying only partly burned near the
back-log. It would not burn, all we could do