ce of
Faith. That serious, unprotesting manner of perfect innocence must have
told on her accuser, had it not been that, at the same instant, the
latter caught sight of the crimsoned and disturbed countenance of the
pastor, who felt the veil rent off the unconscious secret of his heart.
Faith snatched her letter out of his hands, and said:

'Let the witch hang! What care I? She has done harm enough with her
charms and her sorcery on Pastor Tappau's girls. Let her die, and let
all other witches look to themselves; for there be many kinds of
witchcraft abroad. Cousin Lois, thou wilt like best to stop with Pastor
Nolan, or I would pray thee to come back with me to breakfast.'

Lois was not to be daunted by jealous sarcasm. She held out her hand to
Pastor Nolan, determined to take no heed of her cousin's mad words, but
to bid him farewell in her accustomed manner. He hesitated before
taking it, and when he did, it was with a convulsive squeeze that
almost made her start. Faith waited and watched all, with set lips and
vengeful eyes. She bade no farewell; she spake no word; but grasping
Lois tightly by the back of the arm, she almost drove her before her
down the street till they reached their home.

The arrangement for the morning was this: Grace Hickson and her son
Manasseh were to be present at the hanging of the first witch executed
in Salem, as pious and godly heads of a family. All the other members
were strictly forbidden to stir out, until such time as the low-tolling
bell announced that all was over in this world for Hota, the Indian
witch. When the execution was ended, there was to be a solemn
prayer-meeting of all the inhabitants of Salem; ministers had come from
a distance to aid by the efficacy of their prayers in these efforts to
purge the land of the devil and his servants. There was reason to think
that the great old meeting-house would be crowded, and when Faith and
Lois reached home, Grace Hickson was giving her directions to Prudence,
urging her to be ready for an early start to that place. The stern old
woman was troubled in her mind at the anticipation of the sight she was
to see, before many minutes were over, and spoke in a more hurried and
incoherent manner than was her wont. She was dressed in her Sunday
best; but her face was very grey and colourless, and she seemed afraid
to cease speaking about household affairs, for fear she should have
time to think. Manasseh stood by her, perfectly, rigidly s