Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1886-12-09

minister. "of your popish practice
before; but they are not iobe boasteC
of in open day unrebuked.
Elkniah Stoyer's hmbs had failed
under him, as this strange colloquy
went on, and he had sunk. a pathetic
and broken figure upon the handle o.
the bier. AS he sat with one palsied
hand, blue with the cold. resting upon
the head of his staff, and the other
clasping tightly the wrist of Mercy,
he lifted his white head With q ges.
turs of despair and anguiHh
WAS it for this" he xailed in q
quavsring voice of pail. i''that the
Lord gave me strength rise from
my bed and TO follow the Uod !; of my
helpraeet to the grave when a grave
is denied her? Ezra Johnston was
greatly angered, as We all know, that
after his sister that was my wife died
| should go to Freeport for a help
meet, when he would have had me
choose the sister of his own goodwife.
His killock caught under the thwarts.
Wsitstill Eastman can tell you that.
But all that went amiss Ezra would
still lay at the door of my goodwife;
her that is here dead before We, and
ye deny her a grave away from the
wolves"
"She shall have her grave, father
Mercy said, with an intensity of pur-
pose that impressed even her angry
uncle. She shall lie by the side OF
my own mother if have to bury her
with no one to help me-"
The tickle sympathy of the bystand-
ers yeered in her direction, and one or
two Of the fish wives that had formed
part of the funeral train moved al
most imperceptibly toward the spot
where she stood, their action showing
that the more merciful, at least, could
not easily bring themselves to any
thing so horrible to their mind as to
deny burial to a fellow creature. Be-
fare, however, the movement could be
at all general, even before it was
marked. Ezra Johnston, whose always
violent temper was fast mastering
him, broke out again
"Oh, no doubt Waitstill Eastman
knows, and / am blapd fool that
cannot see when his killock is free Of
the thwarts Perhaps Goodman East
man will say, too, that last Sabbath
night | wasn't hailed in my sleep to
the British bark off the point and
dragged by the Devils imps up aud
down the sides TIL | was bruised and
aching in every bone Of my body.
Aud might have been killed but that
daylight drew on, and with my own
ears heard Goodwife Slower say
Let him so; It's almost cock Growing.
| knew her voice as we'll as | know
my own, and that but two days before
she died. What do We say to that Elk
niah Slower? What do We say to
that, Parson Eaton?'
y dozen voices broke loose into q
sudden babble. The uuseemly and
cruel debate that had thus far been
carried on by single voices was all at
once taken up by the whole company.
The fret surprise and the awe had
nov wrrn off enough to let the folks
recover the use OF their tongues, and
men and women hurried now clamor-
ously to deny or to confirm Ezra
Johnston's charges. The clergyman
tried vsinly to make himself heard.
His words were lost in the growing
tumult. The crowd became every
moment more and more like a mob.
Johnston grew more furious, and his
anger infected the men that were most
under his influence. The very lame
OF witch reused all the supersti'ious
fears OF the simple fishermen, and all
the fanaticism OF their blood was ap.
pealed to.
Come" Johnston cried out at last,
struck with a sudden idea, ''let us
take the witch-wife TO the DEVILS
Den, and leave her bones 10 rot there
| warrant che has been there times
enough before"
A shudder ran through his hearers
The Devils Den was a rocky cave on
the shore of Harpswell Neck. where
more than one good boat had perish
ed. and where more than one fisher
man had seen strange lights fitting
about to cheat him to his destruction.
Come" repeated Johnston, taking
long stride toward the bier, take
hold here some Of you.
But before he could grasp the rude
handle, HE niece sprAng forward. Her
ewes flashed; and her simple hood fell
back from her pale face, and her whole
form quivsred with excitement.
Coward = she cried. "Oh, you