the reverend gentleman answered. "The devil
does not sleep. He is abroad continually, and, verily, one needs must
rise early to be before him and his minions."

"Where are you going, Mr. Parris?" asked the youth.

"I am coming here."

"Your call is early."

"Not earlier than Satan's. I trow he is here even already and hath
abided with you, before I came."

Charles made no answer to this, for there is no wrath like the wrath of
an angry preacher, whose zeal warps his judgment and makes a fanatic of
him. Bigoted, tyrannical, haughty and cruel, Parris swooped down on his
enemies with the fury of an eagle.

Charles Stevens was a little amazed at the manner of the minister and
asked:

"Is your business with me?"

"It is."

"What is it?"

"It seems best that we converse where there is no danger of being
overheard, Charles, as what I have to say is of a very grave and serious
nature and concerns your soul's welfare."

When a bigoted, ambitious zealot becomes interested in the welfare of a
person, that person is in danger.

The anxious girl, whose face was pressed close to the window lattice
watching the men, heard all and turned so pale, that even the warm rays
of the sun failed to give the tint and glow of life to the cheek. She
saw them walk away down the path and go across the brook among the trees
and over the distant hill.

To Charles, it was like making a pilgrimage to some place of evil, the
end of which he dreaded. Across the hill, hidden from the town by trees
and intervening slope, they paused near the corner of a stone fence,
and Mr. Parris leaned against the wall and gazed on Charles in silence.

"What have you to say, Mr. Parris?" the young man asked, as the cold,
gray eye, like a gleam of steel fell upon him. Mr. Parris, in slow and
measured tones, answered:

"No man knows until the time comes what depths are within him. To some
men it never comes. Let them rest and be thankful. To me it was
brought--it was forced upon me. I am despised, misused and abused by the
world for the fact that I stand in the hand of God to do his holy will."

"You talk strangely, Mr. Parris," said Charles, when the wild-eyed
fanatic had finished and turned his haggard face up toward heaven. "I
think your earnestness and zeal are mistaken."

"Yes, mistaken by all; but I know the Lord ordains me for this good and
holy work, and I will serve my Master, hard as the task may be."

"Mr. Parris, may we not be mistaken