wet, black earth, that they heard the crabs scuttling
down them, and Porringer made a jab with his pole at a great sheepshead
lying _perdu_ alongside. The water broke before them into spangles,
glittering phosphorescent ripples. A school of small fish, disturbed by
the oars, rushed past them, leaping from the water with silver flashes.
A turtle plunged sullenly. From the grass above came the sleepy cry of
marsh hens, and once a great white heron rose like a ghost across their
path. It flapped its wings and sailed away with a scream of wrath.

The boat had wound its tortuous way for many minutes before Porringer
said in a low voice: "We can speak safely now. There is nothing human
moving on these flats unless the witch, Margery, is abroad. Cursed may
she be, and cursed those who give her shelter and food and raiment and
lay offerings at her door, for surely it is written, 'Thou shalt not
suffer a witch to live.'"

"Is there anything a Muggletonian will not curse?" asked Landless.

"Yea," answered the other complacently. "There are ourselves, the salt
of the earth. There are a thousand or more of us."

"And the remainder of the inhabitants of the earth are reprobate and
doomed?"

"Yea, verily, they shall be as the burning of lime, as thorns cut up
will they be burned in the fire."

"Then why have you to do with me, and with the man to whom we are
going?"

"Because it is written: 'Make ye friends of the mammon of
unrighteousness;' and moreover there be degrees even in hell fire. I do
not place you, who have some inkling of the truth, nor the Independents
and Fifth Monarchy men (as for the Quakers they shall be utterly damned)
in the furnace seven times heated which is reserved for the bigoted and
bloody Prelatists who rule the land, swearing strange oaths, foining
with the sword, and delighting in vain apparel; keeping their feast days
and their new moons and their solemn festivals. They are the rejoicing
city that dwells carelessly, that says in her heart, 'I am, and there is
none beside me.' The day cometh when they shall be broken as the
breaking of a potter's vessel, yea, they shall be violently tossed like
a ball into a far country."

Here they struck a snag, well-nigh capsizing the boat. When she righted,
and Landless had bailed her out with a gourd, they proceeded in silence.
Landless was in no mood for speech. He did not know where they were
going, nor for what purpose, nor did he greatly care. He meant to