stronger enemy persecuted the weaker.

While Alexander waited for the next development, her captors prolonged
the silence in order that the suspense of unguessed things should sap
her courage.

The entrance through which they had come showed only as a darker spot
in the shadowed vagueness of a far wall of rock, but there was a
squareness about it which suggested a mineshaft. The walls themselves
were streaked with black seams of coal and dug into tunnels that led in
unknown directions.

The place was lighted by several lanterns of feeble power and a number
of pine torches, and between the spot where they had stationed her and
the crescent of dark figures that stood as silent accusers and judges,
ran a trickling rivulet of water. At that detail Alexander smiled, for
she knew that it was part and parcel of the absurdity contained in the
allegation of witchcraft. The black art is powerless, by mountain
tradition, to cross running water.

A bat fluttered zig-zag about the place brushing her cheek, but
Alexander was not the sort of woman to be frightened by a bat.

When the calculated silence had held for perhaps five full minutes, the
standing men meanwhile remaining as motionless as though they were
themselves carved from coal, Alexander spoke.

"Why don't ye say somethin'," she demanded. "I've got friends thet'll
be s'archin' these hills fer me right vigorous ef I don't git ter Viper
in good time."

It was a bold and provocative speech, but it failed to tempt the silent
men out of the pose they had assumed. They knew the effect of
protracted silence and impending danger to sap even an assertive
courage and for five other minutes they stood wordless and motionless.
Only their shadows moved under the torch-light, wavering fitfully from
small to large, from light to dark like draperies in a wind.

Finally the man at the center who appeared to exercise a sort of
command moved a step forward and raised both hands. The others lifted
high their right arms and in a sepulchral voice the spokesman demanded,
"Does ye all solemnly sw'ar, by ther dreadful oath ye've done tuck,
with yore lives forfeit fer disloyalty or disobedience, ter try this
wench on ther charge of outragin' decorum--an' practicin' ther foul
charms of witchcraft? Does ye all sw'ar ter deal with her in full an'
unmitigated jestice despite thet she s'arves Satan with a comely face
and a comely body? Does ye all sw'ar?"

The raised hands, with a un