every question we are asked, or we shall get no good of
our interview. So much I am informed of."

"What good shall we get if we do answer all the questions?" Esther
asked.

"If I was a wizard, maybe I could tell you, Esther. You should ask
David. There used to be witches and wizards, too, among his people."

"They were forbidden," said David gravely.

"But they were there, all the same," said Norton.

"Not all the same," said David; "for it was death by the law; and no
good ever came of them, and nobody good ever went to them."

"O David," said Matilda timidly, but the occasion was too tempting to
be lost,--"do you know what they did? Did they only play tricks? or was
there anything real about it?"

Perhaps David took a different view of the occasion; for after one
earnest look into Matilda's face, as if he would answer her, he turned
it off with lightly saying that the witches were real, for Saul had
them all put to death that he could find; and then saying that he would
go and look after this particular witch. And presently he came back and
proclaimed that she was ready to receive visitors.

"Who are to go, Davie? Who are to go to see her?" were the inquiries
huddled one upon another.

"Everybody," said David. "One at a time."

"What are we to do? What are we to say?"

"Answer questions."

"The witch's questions?"

"Certainly."

"Why must we answer her questions? and what will she ask us about?"

"Really you must judge for yourselves, about the one thing; and find
out for yourselves, about the other. I cannot tell you."

"Will you answer her questions?"

"Perhaps."

"O come along!" was the cry then; "you can't get anything out of him.
Who will go first?"

Caramel and ices had done their utmost, and now the witch became the
absorbing interest. And as those who came back from the witch s den, it
was found, would tell nothing of what had transpired there, the
interest was kept up at white heat. First one went, and then another.
Of course the young people of the household were the last.

The witch's den, when Norton entered it, was a place he did not
recognize; though in reality it was manufactured out of the little
corner reception room. Dark drapery enclosed and mystified the space
into which he was admitted; the light came from he could not see where,
and was dim enough too; and the witch was not to be seen. Nor,
distinctly, anything else. Norton took his stand as he had been
directed in fr