," said Mistress
Ann with dignity. "I am going to Salem town this afternoon, very much in
the cross, to give my testimony against a young friend of yours. Would
that I could have been spared this trial!" and his sister-in-law looked
up to the ceiling sanctimoniously. As Joseph told his young wife that
night, her hypocrisy hardened his heart against her; so that he could
have kept her at home by sheer force, if it were necessary, and at all
expedient--in fact he would have preferred that rough but sincere way.

"If you testify to anything that throws doubt upon Master Raymond's
perfect innocency and goodness, you will testify to a lie," replied
Master Joseph severely.

"As I said, I have no time for argument. Will you be good enough to tell
Jehosaphat to saddle the roan for me."

"You know that I had your permission to send Fatty off on an errand--and
he is not back yet."

Mistress Putnam started and bit her lip. She had made a mistake. "I
suppose he will be back before long."

"I doubt it. I sent him to the village."

"Well, I suppose I can put on the saddle myself. Your conscience
probably would not allow you to do it--even if common courtesy towards a
woman, and that woman your sister, demanded it."

"Without deciding the latter point, I should think it almost impossible
for me to put a saddle on the roan just now."

"Why? I do not understand you."

"Because he is doubtless miles away by this time."

"Jehosaphat did not take the horse!"

"It is precisely what he did do."

"He knew I wanted the roan to ride to Salem town this afternoon."

"He told me you did; but I said that I thought you would have too much
sense to go. Still, if you would go, that I would lend you one of my
horses."

"Well, where is your horse?"

"There, at the door. You can take off my saddle, and put on your
side-saddle, and, if you are in a hurry, Sweetbriar can do the distance
in half the time that the roan could."

Mistress Putnam could have cried with anger and vexation. Like many
people of strong and resolute will, she was a good deal of a coward on
horseback; and she knew that Sweetbriar was what the farmers called "a
young and very skittish animal." Still her determined spirit rose
against thus being outdone; besides, she knew well that in a case like
this, where none of the "afflicted circle," not even her own daughter,
would aid her, the whole thing might fall through if she were not
present. So she said, "Well, I will