r trusted, and who, as he the Magistrate of the
district had just been informed, also bought witches' wares, held
converse with the Evil one on the cross-road, and brought young maidens
to his nightly revels. Not to mention the Baptist, his devilish boy,
and the bound witch herself, who fixed him with an evil glare. Everyone
who stood there must be clapped into the witches' tower on the Zwinger,
but to do this he must have a warrant from the Kurfuerst. He must also
return with at least half a company of crossbow-men to this valley and
root out all heresy and witchcraft. Without saying a word he mounted
his horse and rode out of shot of his dreadful neighbors. Then he
called out: "The examination can take place in Heidelberg, my business
here is at an end. Sergeant, you deliver the witch and incendiary into
the tower." He then set spurs to his horse, ordered the other officers
in the village to follow him and trotted away as quick as he possibly
could down the valley, still in mortal terror of being pursued by this
conventicle of witches and heretics. The sergeant and the officer
placed the fettered witch between their horses and thus brought her to
the village, when being bound together with the peasant to a cart they
made their way to the Tower. The Miller had in the meanwhile taken his
boy by the arm; they went into the house to the old Martha. Erastus
remained behind; he went up close to the young Priest, who stood
silently leaning against a pear tree. "Magister Laurenzano," said the
wretched father in a husky voice, "is there any truth in the statement
made by the witch?" The young Priest remained silent. He looked down as
if overwhelmed. "Did you entice Lydia by night to the Holtermann?" now
shrieked the Physician in wild despair. The Priest bowed his head. The
tall physician fell prostrate on the ground. His companions sprang
forwards and carried him to one of the carts, whilst the Priest with
his face buried in his hands hastened away.

All was once more still in front of the Miller's house. The frightened
fowls ran hither and thither in the down-trodden grass. The mill-wheels
clappered their monotonous old song, and gaily gleamed the rivulet in
the bright midday sun, while many colored butterflies and dark
dragonflies hovered around it. The passionate sobbing of women arose
from the interior of the mill. After a while, Father Werner and his son
appeared at the edge of the wood, both bearing knapsacks on their
ba