fore. Is this all ye
can say against her? Is there naught ye can say for her--ye who have
known her kindness? John Giles, who sat with thy brother when he had
the fever? Goodwife Anne Brown, who helped thee keep watch the night
thy father's ship was lost at sea? Tabitha Brett, who healed thy
childish hurts, and drove away thy tears with sweetmeats? Thrice shame
upon you all! The poor old woman!

GOODWIFE WILLIAMS
(wildly).
Let her give back my child! Here is the cap that I found on her door-
sill.

PHILIPPE.
Let me look at the cap, Goodwife Williams. (Turns it inside out.) There
is a name embroidered on the band. (Reads.) "Hester Wordell." Not thy
child's cap at all.

[Hands it back.

GOODWIFE WILLIAMS.
'Tis more witchcraft!

PHILIPPE.
And is that witchcraft, too?

(A child's voice in the woods at right is heard singing:)

"In May I go a-walking to hear the linnets sing,
The blackbird and the throstle a-praising Queen and King:
It cheers the heart to hear them, to see the leaves unfold,
The meadows covered over with buttercups of gold."

GOODWIFE WILLIAMS.
'Tis Barbara's voice! 'Tis Barbara! (Enter Barbara, fleet as a shadow,
from right, followed by Fawnfoot. Both take the unconsciously tripping
steps that belong to the wild freedom of youth.) It is my child!
Barbara! Where hast thou been since yesternight?

BARBARA.
With Fawnfoot yonder. She taught me to play games, and angle for fish,
and----What be they staring at?

BRADFORD
(dryly).
Goodwife Williams, for children that rouse a village there is but one
remedy.

GOODWIFE WILLIAMS
(humbly).
A physic?

BRADFORD
(almost roaring).
No! A _slipper!_ See that it is administered. And light songs, such as
we heard but now, are scarcely seemly on a young one's lips. She should
learn graver measures.

[In groups of twos and threes the Puritans solemnly exeunt, left,
Bradford marching ahead. Fawnfoot, with agile grace, disappears into
background, dancing with her own shadow as she goes. Philippe and Goody
Gurton are left alone. Philippe bends over the ducking-chair, and with
his knife cuts the thongs which bind Goody Gurton, the while he talks,
half-tenderly, half-gaily, for the first time allowing a hint of accent
to creep into his speech.

PHILIPPE.
They do not even stop to unbind thee! It is a strange thing, this
witchcraft, that so turns the head!

GOODY GURTON.
You do for me what others do not do--you whom I have scarcely seen
before!

PH