on."

"Mistress Putnam is quite correct," said Squire Hathorne. "Mistress
Dulcibel had better be transferred to Boston also. There the worshipful
Master Haughton has the power and the will to see that all these imps of
Satan are kept safely."

"As the seamen may be lying around and make a disturbance if the removal
comes to their knowledge, Mistress Putnam suggested that it had better
not be done until evening. It would be a night ride; but then, as
Mistress Putnam said, witches rather preferred to make their journeys in
the night time--so that it would be a positive kindness to the
prisoners."

"Very true! very well thought of!" replied Squire Hathorne, with a grim
smile. "And no doubt they will be very thankful that we furnish them
with horses instead of broomsticks. Though as for Mistress Dulcibel, I
suppose she would prefer her familiar, the black mare, to any other
animal."

"That was very marvelous. Abigail Williams says that she is certain that
the mare, after jumping the gate, never came down to earth again, but
flew straight on up into the thundercloud."

"And it thundered when the black beast entered the cloud, did it not?"
said the magistrate in a sobered tone. He evidently saw nothing
unreasonable in the story.

"Yes--it thundered--but not the common kind of thunder--it was enough to
make your flesh creep. The minister says he is only too thankful that
the Satanic beast did throw him off. He might have been carried off to
hell with her."

"Yes, it was a very foolish thing to get on the back of a witch's
familiar," said the magistrate. "It was tempting Providence. And Master
Parris has cause for thankfulness that only such a mild reproof as a
slight wetting, was allowed to be inflicted upon him. These are perilous
times, Master Putnam. Satan is truly going about like a roaring lion,
seeking what he may devour. Against this chosen seed,--this little
remnant of God's people left upon the whole earth--no wonder that he is
tearing and raging."

"Ah me, my Christian friend, it is too true! And no wonder that he is so
bold, and full of joyful subtlety. For is he not prevailing, in spite of
all our efforts? You know there are at least four hundred members of
what rightly calls itself the Church of England--for certainly it is not
the church of Christ--in Boston alone! When the royal Governor made the
town authorities give up the South Church--even our own Church, built
with our own money--to their so-call