The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1877-07-04

ton, as he added:
" Hear this, then. If Mistress Viii
son is hanged to morrow morn, her blood
shall be between me and thee so long as
We both shall live"
As he stood in the freight, with up
lifted baud aud trembling lips, like an
avenging angel, Miriam gazed at him
with a sort of awe. But after he had
waited in vain for her to speak, when he
left her and she heard the house door
close behind him, a bitter smile crept
over her lips, and she let her head sink
on her hand
Her meditations were disturbed direct
ly. The door of the keeping room, as
the family sitting room of those days
was called, opened to admit an elderly
woman in the prim costume of that OF
olden time.
How goes it with the child, Miriam?
Has it had the fits again ," she asked,
with eager curiosity.
" Nay, dame but it has cried since
morning till now, and it has the witches
mark on its forehead as | have almost
ne'er seen it before"
The two women bent together over the
cradle, and contemplated its little occu-
pant. who had fallen into a troubled
slumber. Between the baby's brows, that
scowIed as if the child was still in pain,
Law indeed a deep red flush the feverish
token, perhaps, of its incessant crying.
While they looked, the little parched
lips moved and twitched. A happier
mother might have said the babe was
smiling, but when Dame WalfOrd whis-
pered mysteriously, The witch Is talk
ing to it," Miriam nodded her head and
sank back in her chair.
Think We, dame" she asked, look
ing at the flames, while the visitor took
ner place at the other end of the corner
of the hearth think We if | laid the
babe in the fire the witch would come and
fetch it,"
"Lord!' exclaimed the other, evil
IDENTIFY startled by the boldness of the
proposition. But perchance it's thine
own after all, Miriam. think thou
shouldst do nothing until the witch is
hanged. Then if it's hers, it will'after
her; but if it's thine it will get well
when she can torment it no more"
< But if it's hers and goes after her,
then have | no child 2"
cav, marry, there is the other thing
81 could think it, for it has color like
Enoch's, and curling hair, only that it is
fond of her 1t chung to her ever when
she caressed 1T, and cried when she left
it, like any other child"
"But, if she charmed it? A witch can
do that as we'll"
'Enoch says this babes like me-"
may, that it's not! Mind thee, | say
it is not thine. The parson thinks it is,
and so do others who have spoken to me
of the matter, But thine or no, it's not
like thee, and if Enoch says it, it is be
cause he, like many another husband
has no eyes for his wife's face. Why,
saw thee a babe in thy mothers arms,
and thou vast ever the talrest maid in al
the country round"
Miriam smiled family; but her brow:
contracted and the cloud of gloom settled
darker than before over her face. She
too, had a mark upon her forehead, though
she saw it not.
"Only since then | am no more Sc
fair"
''Thou art no more so gay" was the
evasive answer.
CHOW can be gay with that before
my eyeY asked the mother pointing t.
the cradle; "and Enoch ever approaching
me? ?"
''Enoch believes not in the witches?
| He believes not that Mrs. Wilson Is 6
WITCH
CAY, ay! there are others like him
I've heard many a man praise her as fan
and good Fair she is of truth, anC
peradventure her beauty has been {
a snare to her-her beauty and pride
| For she carries her head nigh, Mistress
| Wilson. She comes of great family
they say, and verify she has likeness o
her father, with lace ruffles to his shir
and a sword at his side. What might ht
say if he could see her now? And Abne
| Wilson, too! That would have beer
but an evil wind that brought him int
port to hear his wife called witch. IL
my thinking, that's worse name thar
gossip or busybody, as I've heard sh'
called me-though | bear her no malice
for that"
cay" said Miriam, musingly, "ant
who can tell why Abner ne'er came bacl
again ? A witch can brew bad weather
Think you not so, dame ?"
Marry" quoth the dame, "a witcl
would do it, too, had she seen MAJ
that pleased her better than her hus
band-though l will not say that o
Mistress Wilson, for l bear her no NAL
ice"
While these scenes were passing il
Enoch Dalton's homestead, that lay OIL
the higway between Salem and the fittl
fishing village of Marblehead, the shade
of evening had descended upon the de
mure, first mentioned town, and the ligh
twinkled out here and there from tn
houses, while the streets were alread.
deserted In 1893 they were not bril-
liantly illuminated, and the inhabltant
found it more agreeable to stay within
doors than to light there own uncertain
steps with hand lantern.
Nearly in the centre of the town rose
Salem JAIL dark and uninviting in out
ward appearance, though in reality hos
pitable enough. 1t held within its fou
walls more guests than any house in al
New England could have boosted. Will
accusations following closely on each 9th
er, had peopled its cells with witches
and when one was given over to tn
hangman's hands, there was no DANCE
but that a new occupant would soon b
found.
Besides the unwilling guests, however
there were on this particular evening
certain. others, two or three worth.
neighbors of Mistress Burns, the jailor'
wife. The good danes had the pleasur
of hearing from her own lips how tn
Reverend Mr.. Pryor and the justices ha
made solemn visit that afternoon to tn
witch, Mistress Wilson, who was to b
hanged on the morrow-how they ha
exhorted her to confess her evil practice
and her penitence for the same and ho'
they had been obliged to go away wit
their purpose unaffected, because tn
witch obstinately continued to declar