young man started and said:

"You mistake."

"I do not. You told me you did in the presence of Abigail Williams. At
the same time you confessed to killing Samuel Williams in order to wed
me."

Charles Stevens was thunderstruck, and could only gaze in amazement on
the bold, unscrupulous woman, who had trained under Parris, until she
was capable of almost any deception to carry her point.

"Sarah Williams, what you say is a lie!" he declared, in a voice hoarse
with amazement and indignation.

"We shall see! We shall see!" she answered, in a hoarse, shrill voice.
"I will prove it. See, I will prove it and hang you yet. Beware! I do
not charge you with witchcraft, but with murder. Either take the place
you made vacant by the death of Samuel Williams, or hang!"

As least of the two evils, Charles Stevens intimated he preferred to
hang, and, turning abruptly about, he left her. Next day he was met by
Bly and Louder in the village, who interrogated him on his recent
trouble with Sarah Williams about the dead husband. Knowing both to be
outrageous liars, and unscrupulous as they were bold, he sought to avoid
them; but they followed him everywhere and interrogated him, until he
was utterly disgusted and finally broke away and went home.

Charles Stevens did not tell his mother of the threat of Sarah Williams,
for he considered it too absurd to notice. Three or four days later,
when he had almost ceased to think of the matter, he and his mother were
startled from their supper, by hearing a loud knock at the front door.

"Sit you still, Charles, and I will go and see who this late visitor
is."

She rose and went to the door and opened it.

Three or four dark forms stood without.

"Is Charles Stevens in?" asked one.

"Yes, sir."

"I want to see him."

"Who are you?"

"Don't you know me, Hattie Stevens? I am the sheriff," said the speaker
boldly, as he, unbidden, entered the house.

"You the sheriff! What can you want here?"

Turning to the men without, he said in an undertone:

"Guard the doors."

The dumfounded mother repeated:

"You the sheriff! What do you want here?"

"I want to see that precious son of yours, widow Stevens, and I trow he
will guess the object of my visit."

"My son! Surely he hath done no wrong. He hath broken no law."

"Where is he?"

The voice of the sheriff was pitched considerably above the ordinary
key, and Charles Stevens, hearing it in the kitchen, became alarmed, and
ha