All kinds of
flowers and herbs were laid out on boards or in wicker-baskets to be
dried: elder, dandelions, camomile, lime-blossoms, and others, though
it was not really necessary for the devil to have taught mother Sibylla
their properties. The disappointed police-officers looked at each
other, was that really a witch's kitchen? The sergeant came a sudden
exclamation of joy and pointed to a small trap-door carefully concealed
by old clothes. Herr Hartmann pushed it open with his sword, and as it
gave way ordered the officer to open it. "Here we have her household
ware," said the Amtmann with a furious look. The men entered into the
room. The bleached skull of a horse gazed at them with hollowed eyes
from the opposite wall. On old pots and broken dishes lay dried wolves'
eyes, birds' hearts, owls' feathers and claws. Snakes with black backs
and white bellies were seen in tightly corked glass bottles, as well as
horribly distended toads. Lizards with far cleverer eyes than those of
the men looking at them returned their gaze from the glassy confines in
which they were placed. On the window-sill were little bottles with
salves, fern-seeds, vervain and all kinds of magic powders. That which
however most served to convict the witch, was a basket which the wicked
old woman had evidently placed hurriedly down after her last trip,
before escaping, for in it lay carefully wrapped up in rags and small
boxes, all kinds of snake skeletons, toads' bones, a child's skull,
wolf's hair, a bottle with pigeon's blood, and numerous bits of paper
on which curious symbols were inscribed, together with a skillet with
tinder and flint used to cook the witch's broth in the woods. Herr
Hartmann Hartmanni did not appear quite satisfied. "A miserably low
slut," he said contemptuously, "the whole find is not worth fifty
thalers. Take up the basket, as it is, and the old pots with their
contents. This Satan's bride has concealed her more valuable
implements, otherwise I should have managed to scrape together a pretty
considerable sum out of these confiscated pots and kettles. But Master
Hammerling will soon open her mouth, and make her tell, where she has
hidden her treasure, the moment we have caught her."

"She won't let herself be caught," said the sergeant, "she is now away
with the plague, and God only knows what shape she will assume, and
whether she won't appear to us to-night as a nightmare."

"The plague take it," said the Amtmann trembl