with a quiet conscience, rather than life to
be gained by a lie. I am not a witch. I know not hardly what you mean
when you say I am. I have done many, many things very wrong in my life;
but I think God will forgive me them for my Saviour's sake.'

'Take not His name on your wicked lips,' said Pastor Tappau, enraged at
her resolution of not confessing, and scarcely able to keep himself
from striking her. She saw the desire he had, and shrank away in timid
fear. Then Justice Hathorn solemnly read the legal condemnation of Lois
Barclay to death by hanging, as a convicted witch. She murmured
something which nobody heard fully, but which sounded like a prayer for
pity and compassion on her tender years and friendless estate. Then
they left her to all the horrors of that solitary, loathsome dungeon,
and the strange terror of approaching death.

Outside the prison walls, the dread of the witches, and the excitement
against witchcraft, grew with fearful rapidity. Numbers of women, and
men, too, were accused, no matter what their station of life and their
former character had been. On the other side, it is alleged that
upwards of fifty persons were grievously vexed by the devil, and those
to whom he had imparted of his power for vile and wicked
considerations. How much of malice, distinct, unmistakable personal
malice, was mixed up with these accusations, no one can now tell. The
dire statistics of this time tell us, that fifty-five escaped death by
confessing themselves guilty, one hundred and fifty were in prison,
more than two hundred accused, and upwards of twenty suffered death,
among whom was the minister I have called Nolan, who was traditionally
esteemed to have suffered through hatred of his co-pastor. One old man,
scorning the accusation, and refusing to plead at his trial, was,
according to the law, pressed to death for his contumacy. Nay, even
dogs were accused of witchcraft, suffered the legal penalties, and are
recorded among the subjects of capital punishment. One young man found
means to effect his mother's escape from confinement, fled with her on
horseback, and secreted her in the Blueberry Swamp, not far from
Taplay's Brook, in the Great Pasture; he concealed her here in a wigwam
which he built for her shelter, provided her with food and clothing,
and comforted and sustained her until after the delusion had passed
away. The poor creature must, however, have suffered dreadfully, for
one of her arms was fractu