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

HllhisteIi Vi yum poPiSh PiaSVicee
before; but they are not to be boosted
of in open day unrebuked."
Elkniah Stover's limbs had failed
under him, as this strange colloquy
went on, and he had sunk, pathetic
and broken figure upon the handle OF
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 ges-
ture of despair and anguish.
WAS it for this" he walled in a
quavering voice of pain, gnthat the
Lord gave me strength 10 rise from
my bed and to follow the body of my
hel pmeet to the grave when a grave
is denied her2 Ezra Johnston was
greatly angered, as ye 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
Waitstill 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 ye, and
ye deny her 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 veered in her direction, and one or
two of the fsh-w 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 AZ to
deny burial to fellow creature. Be-
fore, 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
ooh, no doubt Walntill Eastman
knows, and | am a blind 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 and
down the sides till ! was bruised and
aching in every bone of my body.
And | might have been killed but that
daylight drew on, and with my own
ears I heard Goodwife Slower say :
Let him co. It's almost cock growing.
/ knew her voice as well as | know
my own, and that but two days before
she died. What do ye say to that Elk
niah Slower? What do ye say to
that, Parson Eaton
A dozen voices broke loose into a
sudden babble. The unseemly and
cruel debate that had thus far been
carried on by single voices was all at
once taken up by the whole company.
The first surprise and the awe had
now worn off enough to let the folks
recover the use Of their tongues, and
men and women hurried now clarnor-
ously to deny or to confirm Ezra
Johnston's charges. The clergyman
tried vainly to make himself heard.
His words were lost in the growing
tumult. The crowd became every
moment more and more like mob.
Johnston grew more furious, and his
anger infected the men that were most
under his influence. The very lame
Of witch roused all the superstitious
!
fears Of the simple fishermen, and all
the fanaticism Of their blood was APP.
pealed to.
Come" Johnston cried out at last,
struck with sudden idea, "let US
take the witch-wife to the Devils
Den, and leave her bones to rot there.
warrant she has been there times
enough before"
A shudder ran through his hearers.
The Devils Den was 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, his niece sprang forward. Her
eyes flashed; and her simple hood fell
back from her pale face, and her whole