ne as it passed rapidly over his face; lingering a moment in the
soft depths of his sweet blue eyes. There was no smile however in his
voice, but the previous solemnity, as he continued:--

"And yet if Balaam's ass could see the angel of the Lord, with his
drawn-sword, standing in the way, and barring his further progress in
wrongdoing, why might not this horse--who is much more intelligent than
an ass--have seen a similar vision?"

The young man had begun this speech somewhat in sport; but as he ended
it, the assumed tone of solemnity had passed into one of real
earnestness. For, as he asked himself, "Why should it not be? This woman
with him was bound on a wicked errand. Why should not the angel or the
Lord stand in her way also--and the horse see him, even if his riders
did not?"

Mistress Putnam made no answer. Perhaps now that the young man was
really in earnest, what he said made some impression upon her, but, more
probably it did not.

He, too, relapsed into silence. It seemed to him a good place to stop
his preaching, and let his sister-in-law think over what he had said.

"Thank Heaven we are here at last!" said the baffled woman, as they rode
up to the horse-block at her own door. Sweetbriar stood very quiet, and
she stepped on the block, Master Joseph keeping his seat.

"Will you dismount and stay to supper, brother Joseph?" said Mistress
Ann, in a soft purring tone. Master Joseph fairly started with his
surprise, and looked steadily into her dark, inscrutable eyes--eyes like
Jael's as she gazed upon sleeping Sisera.

"No, I thank you--I expect a friend to supper. I hope brother Thomas
heard some good news at Ipswich. Come and see us when you feel like
it." And he rode off.

As he told his wife afterwards, he would not have taken supper with his
sister Ann that evening as he valued his life.

And yet perhaps it was all imagination--and he did not see that thing
lurking in the depths of his sister-in-law's cold, unfathomable eyes
that he thought he did. And yet her testimony against Rebecca Nurse,
reads to us, even at this late day, with all the charity that we are
disposed to exercise towards things so long past, as cold-blooded,
deliberate murder.

CHAPTER XLV.

The Two Plotters Congratulate Each Other.

When Master Joseph arrived home, he told his wife of what a perverse
course things had taken, amid his own and her frequent laughter. And
then he could do nothing else than walk up and