Tibb"; others were beaten or
terrified into fictitious
confessions, or perished, denying
their guilt to the last. The black
business culminated during the
Civil Wars when scores of women
were put to death.'--G.M.
TREVELYAN._

X. 'BEWITCHED!'

Saint Swithin's feast was passed. It was a sultry, thundery afternoon
of mid July, when three horsemen were to be seen carefully picking
their way across the wide wet estuary of the River Leven that goes by
the name of 'the Sands.' The foremost rider was evidently the most
important person of the three. He was an oldish man with a careworn
face, and deepset eyes occasionally lighted by a smile, as he urged
his weary horse across the sand. This was no less a person than Judge
Fell himself, the master of Swarthmoor Hall, attended by his clerk and
his groom, and returning to his home after a lengthy absence on
circuit. A man of wide learning, of sound knowledge of affairs, and
gifted with an excellent judgment was Thomas Fell. He was as popular
now, in the autumn of his days among his country neighbours, as he had
been in former times in Parliament, and among the Puritan leaders.
Thrice had he represented his native county in the House of Commons,
and had been a trusted friend of Oliver Cromwell himself. It was only
latterly, men said, since Oliver showed a disposition to grasp more
and ever more power for himself that the good Judge, unable to prevent
that of which he disapproved, had retired from the intricate problems
and difficulties of the Capital. He now filled the office of Judge on
the Welsh Circuit and later on that of Vice-Chancellor of the Duchy of
Lancaster. But whether he dwelt in the country or in London town it
was all one. Wherever he came, men thought highly of him.[10] The
good thirsted for his approval. The bad trembled to meet his eye. Yet,
it was noted, that even when he was obliged to sentence some poor
wretch, he seemed to commiserate him, and he ever sought to throw the
weight of his influence on the side of mercy, although no man could be
sterner at times, especially when he dealt with a case of treachery or
cold-blooded cruelty.

The lines of his countenance were rugged, yet underneath there was
always an expression of goodwill, and a kindly light in his eyes that
seemed to come from some still quiet fount of happiness within. It w