Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-07-09
PENELOPE OF THE MILL

elusive; that is, to those that were convinced
of his guilt. The usual penalty for witch
craft was hanging. "Firebrands of hell was
the epithet applied by kindly Parson Noyes
when he saw eight unfortunate martyrs
hanging on the Salem gallows. But as there
was no doubt that Christopher would refuse
to plead guilty he would undoubtedly be
pressed to death" That was the case with
Giles Corey and the same fate overlook
the Rev. George Burroughs of Wells, to
whom the Rev. Cotton Mather, as he sat on
his horse listening to his fiery speech, shout
ed, "You are no ordained minister! The
devil hath often been transformed into an
angel of Light Fanaticism kindled these
early worthless, otherwise SO kindly, to deeds
of blood.
The schoolmaster was not at all cast down
by his arrest,-he was too much of philoso-
pher for that,-nor was he moved by the
ieers and excavations of those who only
short week before he had supposed to be his
friends. He was to be taken next day to the
Salem Jail, and the question arose what
should be done with the prisoner over night.
The safest place seemed to be an upper room
in the mill, which had only one window,
overlooking the pond from this he could
escape only by jumping into the water at
the imminent risk of sticking fast in the
muddy bottom, the haunt of innumerable
eels. The carpenter was deputed to attach
to the heavy door cumbrous lock borrowed
from the first blockhouse on the edge of the
hamlet No other guard was deemed neces-
sary.
TT was midnight The moon rose late and
was just appearing above the treetops
when Christopher, doing on his heap OF
straw. was aroused by Slight noise outside
ha Ha a
footstep. He went to the door and put his
ear to the keyhole. In moment:
"Schoolmaster, Christopher dear! Are
you there?'
Nowhere else. unfortunately"
@Wait lust a second. | will open the
door,"
With throbbing heart Christopher heard
the sound of the bolt as it grated In the rusty
old lock.
In moment the bolt sprang and the
creaking door swung open. Penelope's arms
were round Christopher's neck.
1--WE must hurry!' she whispered. Il have
arranged everything The horse is waiting
below. We must escaped
Penelope, Selling Christopher's hand led
him swiftly down the rugged stairs. A star
tied bat flew past them into the room
they had deserted. They sped through the
garden, which still showed the effects of
Sunday S W1nQStOTm, ana a lew minutes run
brought them to the edge of the forest where,
fastened to tall sapling, they found the
millers best horse with saddle and pillion.
Penelope had made the most of her oppor-
tunities She had filled the saddlebags with
her best possessions-not many, to be sure.
She had provided a small supply of food.
She brought along her fathers f1intlock and
ammunition. She had even managed to get
the schoolmaster's wallet and change of
clothes for him. She laughingly told him
how she had effected all this al should have
put in the conjuring book if | could have
found it, remarked Penelope; "but ! pre-
sumo it was destroyed as a menace to the
world
@Nay. but | have it in my pocket said
Christopher. at is a Horace printed in
black letter in 1927, and was given to me by
my Uncle, Sir Peter Creighton. prize it.
shall teach thee to read it. Many are the
lines in it that suit my Penelope
Christopher seated the girl in the pillion,
and when he had mounted into the saddle
they rode away through the fragrant sum-
mer night, the moon smiling down on them
and seeming to accompany them as they
passed along the uncertain road, now gallop
ing where the way seemed clear, now eau
tiously plunging into some shady alley of the