There will be other witnesses,” said Willis, and enough to bring the matter to a close.” We were at the court house steps now, and I ceased my talk to observe what was going on.
The crowd was there before us. They pushed and swayed about the narrow doorway, moving first this way and then that. It was a strange assemblage. None in it was laughing. There was no jesting, no calling from one to another regorafenib . Instead there was a calm quietness about it, a set, serious look on the faces that partook of a sense 30of a duty to be performed--one that could not be shirked. Into the room, with its high ceiling and dark oaken beams overhead, the people swarmed, making but little confusion. After some crowding and quiet jostling, Master Willis and I managed to obtain seats near the door. We had scarcely gotten into them before the tavern keeper, peering up, whispered:
There goes Stephen Sewall, the clerk. Note how proudly he bears his ink horn and quills. He seems to know not any one now, though only yesterday he begged me to trust him for a glass of ale, and I did so. There come the jurors,” added Willis, and, see! The prisoners! The witches!”
I see them not,” I said looking all about. There were a few women present, but none of these seemed to be in custody.
Farther to the left,” said Willis, mark where Constable George Locker, and his companion, Jonathan Putnam sit?”
Aye , I see.”
Note the two women next to them?”
Yes.”
They be the witches. Lord prevent that they cast their eyes this way!” and back the inn keeper shrank into his seat.
One of the prisoners was a young girl, as fair as one could wish. The other was an Indian woman, as dark as 31the brown bark of a pine tree. The maid sat with downcast eyes, and deadly terror written in every line of her shrinking form. The eyes of the Indian roved about, looking boldly at the people, as if she bid defiance to her enemies.
I noted that across from me a woman, or rather a maiden, sat with her head bowed on the rough bench in front of her. A cloak concealed most of her figure, and the hood of the garment was drawn up over her head. From this covering a dark ringlet of hair had escaped, and rested lightly on her white cheek. Her little hand, with the pink nails showing against the white flesh, grasped the edge of the seat tightly.
I nudged Master Willis, and asked in a low tone who she was. He did not hear me, for just then the court criers entered, calling loudly for silence. There was a pause, and then, slowly, and with becoming dignity, the dark gowned judges made their appearance.
Their Honors, Judges John Hathorne and Jonathan Corwin,” said Willis. The trial will begin directly now.”
CHAPTER III. THE TRIAL.
The cries of Silence” by the constables were some time in being of effect, so anxious were the people without to get in regorafenib . The efforts of those inside to secure places of vantage was also the cause of some confusion and noise, but, at length, order was obtained. The learned looking judges, with their wigs and gowns, whispered to each other, and then to the clerk. There was some passing of papers back and forth among them, and then Clark Sewall, clearing his voice importantly, read from a parchment he held: