ispersed the crowd, but only to show how easily the authorities might
have protected their victim if they had chosen." Resuming their horrible
work, the rabble tied Janet to a rope stretching between a vessel in the
harbour and the shore, swinging her to and fro, and amusing themselves by
pelting her with stones. Tiring at length of this sport, they let her down
with a sharp fall upon the beach, beat her again unmercifully, and finally
covering her with a door, pressed her to death (Jan. 30, 1705). Janet's
daughter was in the town, and knew what was taking place down by that
blood-stained shore, but she dared not interfere; and during all the time
this hideous murder was going on--lasting for nearly three hours--neither
magistrate nor minister came forward to protect or interpose. Are verily
and in truth "the powers that be ordained of God," or has not the devil
sometimes something to do with the laying on of hands?--so much of the
devil, at least, as is represented by ignorance, inhumanity, superstition,
and cowardice, always conspicuous qualities of the more zealous of every
denomination.

About this time,[74] Thomas Brown, another of the accused, died of "hunger
and hardship" in prison; and at the close of the year, two Inverness men,
George and Lachlan Rattray, were executed, being found "guilty of the
horrid crimes of mischievous charms, by witchcraft and malefice, sorcery
or necromancy." And many witches were also burnt on the top of Spott Loan.

THE SPELL OF THE SLAP.[75]

In 1708, William Stensgar, of Southside, in Orkney, had rheumatism. He
sent to an old beggar-woman, called Catherine Taylor--a cripple herself,
but none the less qualified to heal others by her magic arts. She came to
him about an hour before sunrise and took the case in hand, bidding him
follow her till they came to a certain kind of gate or stile, called a
slap or grind; William's wife accompanying them with a stoup of water. At
this slap Catherine touched his knee, saying, "As I was going by the way I
met the Lord Jesus Christ in the likeness of another man; he asked me what
tidings I had to tell? I said I had no tidings to tell, but I am full of
pain, and can neither gang nor stand. Thou shalt go to the holy kirk, and
thou shalt gang round about, and then sit down upon thy knees, and say thy
prayers to the Lord, and then thou shalt be as heal as the hour when
Christ was born." After this precious charm, which the old cripple said
had bee