Part 9

"Jonathan Leek," said the other. "One time I was in business with a man of Salem, Richard Swan. He took more than his fair share of the profits of our ventures, and left me poor. But I forgave him."

"Oh, I knew Richard Swan well," said the smith. "He died some years ago. We all thought well of him here in Salem. His widow lives here now, Mistress Ann Swan."

"Her house is near ours," spoke up Mat.

"The schoolmaster boards with her," volunteered Joe. "He has a little shed at the back where he keeps his dogs."

"I forgave him," repeated Jonathan Leek in his oily tones. He put on his high-crowned hat and stood up. "Let us all beware of the evil eye, my friends," he added, and, drawing his cloak close about him, strode out through the doorway.

The smith and the two boys stared after him, and then looked at each other. He had certainly brought mysterious stories with him, and the effect of them seemed to remain. "What was I telling you?" said Titus. "Don't be making sport of such business." He went back to his work at the anvil.

The boys said good-night, and left the smithy. The air was colder now that darkness had settled on the lane, and they buttoned their coats tight and stuck their hands in their pockets. "He knows a good deal about them, doesn't he?" said Mat.

Joe nodded his head. "It does sound mighty strange," said he.

"I wonder what father would have said if he'd heard Mr. Leek," observed Mat. "He couldn't have called all that just old wives' tales."

At a corner the boys parted, and Mat trudged home alone. He glanced with new interest at the house where Mistress Swan and the schoolmaster lived. He would have liked to know what Mr. Appleton would say about this business of witches. Would he laugh and say, "What nonsense!" or would he look as much impressed as Jacob Titus had looked? Jacob was no fool, and it was very clear that this Mr. Jonathan Leek was an unusually wise man.

But when Mat came into his own warm house, and found the sitting-room brightly lighted and the family there, he couldn't help doubting whether all he had just heard was true. He didn't mention the matter at all at supper, or until he had finished his studying for the next day. When he was through, however, he pulled his stool up to his father's chair, and told him all that he and Joe had heard that afternoon. All, that is, except what Mr. Leek had said about the business dealings he had once had with Richard Swan.

"And did this make you believe in witches and the Evil Eye?" asked Mr. Hamlin.

"I don't know," answered Mat, doubtfully. "Joe and I didn't know what to think. The stories folks are telling about the witches and about what they do to children and to animals are so strange; and then so many grown-up people believe them. How's a boy to know whether they're true or not?"

"Only by using his seven wits, Mat," said Mr. Hamlin. "Before you believe any of these unnatural things, see them happen with your own eyes. And when a boy or girl cries out that a witch is sticking pins into them, make sure that they're not pretending; you know children love to pretend things, and they like it all the better if they can get grown people to believe what they pretend. I don't think any witch will try sticking pins or knives in you or Joe, or make you fly over the ground like geese. The witch won't, that is, unless you help her."

Mat chuckled. "Trust Joe and me for keeping away from creatures like that," he declared.

Mat started whittling a whistle from a willow stick, and Mr. Hamlin began adding a column of figures in a cash-book, but after a few minutes he looked up at his wife, who had come into the room and was knitting. "I can't blame the children for talking of witches and magic things," he said, "when all the province of Massachusetts Bay seems to be thinking about the same matters. Everybody's whispering about them, and every man, woman, and child seems suddenly to know exactly what witches do. Three men told me to-day about those poor women they've jailed over at Salem Village. And the men seemed almost to believe that the women really had dealt in witchcraft, although they were all three sober men, and one was a minister of the Gospel."

"And I've been hearing the same things," said his wife. "Men don't do all the gossiping, my dear."

Mr. Hamlin turned again to his cash-book, but his counting was interrupted in a few minutes by a loud rapping at the street-door. Mat opened the door, and Mr. Samuel Glover and his son Joe came hurrying in. "There's strange news afoot," said Mr. Glover, "and I thought it only neighborly to share it with you." He threw his hat and cloak on a chair. "Some one has charged Mistress Ann Swan with dealing in witchcraft, with being a familiar of the Evil One."

"Mistress Swan!" exclaimed husband and wife, while Mat stood listening with his mouth wide open.

"It's said she's bewitched the children, makes them act like cats and dogs, sends them into trances, and misuses them in many different ways."

"She's a most kind-hearted woman, and loves children dearly," said Mistress Hamlin. "She always gives them sweets when they come to see her."

"Aye," agreed Mr. Glover, "so the children say, but they add that she gives them the sweets so she may have a chance to work her evil on them."

"What children say this?" demanded Mr. Hamlin.

"Mercy Booth and Susan Parsons and John Rowley," answered Mr. Glover. "They're the main ones."

Mat looked at Joe. "Serves 'em right," said he. "They're mean enough to be bewitched!"

"They stone dogs and cats," put in Joe. "And the schoolmaster caught 'em at it, and gave 'em a good scolding."

"But who started the story?" asked Mr. Hamlin. "Did the children tell these things themselves?"

"A man who's lately come from Boston took the matter to the town clerk," answered Mr. Glover. "It seems the children had told their strange stories to him. His name is Jonathan Leek."

Mat gave a long whistle. "Jonathan Leek!" he echoed. "Why, he's the man Joe and I met at the smithy!"

"Yes," said Joe, nodding vigorously. "And he knows all about witchcraft."

"I should think he did," agreed Mat.

"Poor Ann Swan," said Mistress Hamlin. "As fine a woman as ever lived. And to be charged with being a witch!"

"That's what I say," assented Mr. Glover. "And I'm doubtful if the matter stops there. There's talk already that another had some part in mistreating the children."

"Who?" demanded Mr. Hamlin.

"Who but the man who lives in the house with her, Mr. Appleton the schoolmaster."

"And what can they say against him?" asked Mr. Hamlin. "He's as straightforward a man as ever I met."

"He has a little shed back of the house where he keeps some dogs," explained the other. "The children say that he cures these dogs of broken bones by magic. They say they've seen him do it; take a stray cur who limps and say a few words they can't understand, and soon the dog doesn't limp any more. And the three afflicted children say that he makes them suffer instead of his wounded pets."

"They've been put up to this!" exclaimed Mr. Hamlin. "They'd never have thought of all this for themselves."

"Maybe," agreed Mr. Glover. "But you know how such matters go. Speak a word or two against a man or woman, never mind how honest they may be, and folks seize on it, and before you know it they have a dozen ill stories to tell against them."

"The schoolmaster a witch! I'll not believe it!" declared Mat.

"Nor will I," said Joe.

Mr. Hamlin smiled. "That's right, boys. Stand to your guns. Mr. Appleton has some skill at setting broken bones, probably, and that's how he mends these wounded animals. It's those who believe these charges of witchcraft who are crazy, in my opinion; not the folks they charge with having dealings with the Evil One. As for calling Mistress Swan a witch because of what those children said, any woman might accuse a neighbor of being a witch because her milk wouldn't churn into butter while that neighbor happened to be chatting with her."

"That's about what they have said of some of their witches in Boston," put in Mr. Glover. "Yet, absurd as this may seem to us, it's likely to prove fairly serious to Mistress Swan and Mr. Appleton. People don't stop to use their wits in such affairs nowadays. Call man or woman a witch, and you're two-thirds of the way to proving him or her one."

"But the schoolmaster!" protested Mat. He looked at Joe. "In trouble because those three little rats don't like him! Well, you and I'll stand by him, won't we, Joe? We'll show people that he's no more a witch than the minister is, or than Jonathan Leek himself."

"We will," assented Joe. "I didn't like that Mr. Leek much anyway."

"And I'll help you," said Mr. Hamlin. Mr. Glover nodded his head. "Here's four of us at least who'll stand by the schoolmaster," said he, "and by Mistress Swan too," he added, "for she's likely to be as guiltless as Thomas Appleton."

II

There were a great number of people in Massachusetts in 1692 who believed in witches, and quite as many in Salem as in any other town. Usually there was some old enmity under each charge of witchcraft, though not always, for in some cases people made their charges recklessly, apparently enjoying the prominence it brought them, and thinking little of their victims. In those cases where there was some old score being paid off, however, the populace usually gave little attention to that side of it, but were only interested in the facts brought out to prove that the accused person was a dealer in the Evil Arts. As Mr. Glover said, "Call a person a witch, and you were two-thirds of the way to actually proving that he or she was a witch."

There was school next day, as usual, and Thomas Appleton tried to appear unconcerned about everything but his scholars' lessons. The three afflicted children, the two girls and the boy, were not there, having been kept at home by their parents; and the others, who had all heard the story about the schoolmaster by now, could see that he had something on his mind. When school was over Mat and Joe waited until Mr. Appleton was ready to go, and then joined him on his walk home. At first they talked about all sorts of things, but presently Mat said, "We wanted you to know that we're friends of yours, no matter what people may say about you."

The schoolmaster smiled, and put his hand affectionately on the boy's shoulder. "You've heard then that people are saying that Mistress Swan is a witch, and that I'm another?"

Both boys nodded.

"It's the most absurd story in the world," the man went on. "Mistress Swan is kindness itself to every one, and especially to children. When she hears of any boy or girl who's ill she takes them jellies and puddings. I know a thousand things she's done that shows how much she loves them."

"And we know how you care for dogs and cats and birds," put in Joe. "And every one in school, except those three, would follow you anywhere."

Just then two women, coming along the lane, saw the schoolmaster, and deliberately crossed to the other side so as to avoid meeting him. Thomas Appleton reddened, and looked hurt. Then he snapped his fingers, and muttered, "I'd like to play on my pipe, like that Pied Piper of Hamelin Town we hear of, and dance away, taking all the children and animals after me. It would serve you right, you evil-minded folk of Salem!"

Presently they came to Mistress Swan's door. "Might we see the shed where you keep your dogs?" asked Mat.

"Certainly," said the schoolmaster, and he led them to the little building back of the house. Inside were half-a-dozen dogs, and those who could leaped up about Appleton, licked his hands, and showed their devotion to him. "These two," said he, pointing to a couple of collies, "need exercise. Would you boys like to go for a walk with the three of us?"

The boys said they would, and soon they were out in the open country back of Salem, master and boys and dogs racing along in the nipping air. They passed some of their school-fellows playing in a field, and these joined them, so that presently there was quite a crowd tramping with the schoolmaster and his dogs, and all enjoying themselves.

The schoolmaster whistled and sang and laughed as if he had quite forgotten what people were saying about him in Salem; but when they were back at Mistress Swan's gate, and all but Joe and Mat had left, he frowned. "Poor Mistress Swan!" he said. "She can't throw off her troubles as easily as a man can. And I doubt if any of the neighbors have come in to see her."

"We'll come in," said Joe; and as soon as the dogs were housed again they went in with Mr. Appleton. They found Mistress Swan, a pink-cheeked woman with soft gray hair, working on a sampler at a window. "I'm right glad to see you, Mat, and you too, Joe," she said. "Thomas, will you fetch some apples from the pantry?"

The schoolmaster brought the apples, and the boys sat near the window, eating them, and told her of their tramp in the country. Neither Mat nor Joe could see anything that made them think of a witch in this sweet-faced woman.

While they were chatting a resounding thump came at the front door, and when Mr. Appleton opened it, three grim-faced men walked in. One was the town clerk, and the other two were constables of Salem. They marched into the room, with never a bow or "By your leave," or smile of greeting. Mistress Swan grew a trifle pale, and the boys stood up. "What do you want?" demanded the schoolmaster in a low voice.

"We want Mistress Swan," answered the town clerk, his eyes very stern and forbidding. "She stands accused of dealing in Black Arts and other evil business. She must go with us to the jail, there to await examination of the charges brought against her."

"It's an infamy," cried the schoolmaster, "and a lie! You've known Mistress Swan for years, and you know her to be as innocent as your own wives!"

The town clerk glowered at Thomas Appleton. "Have a care," said he, his voice like steel scraping on iron. "Have a care lest it be your turn next, Master Appleton."

"I care nothing for that," hotly retorted the master. "Gladly would I go with you in Mistress Swan's place. But to think that you charge her, the soul of gentleness and kindness to every one, with such an infamous thing! What can you be thinking of? How can any man or woman or child in Salem bring such charges against Mistress Swan?"

"They have been brought, nevertheless," responded the clerk. "There are three children claim to have been bewitched by her, and there is a man, Jonathan Leek, who tells of strange happenings."

"Jonathan Leek?" exclaimed Mistress Swan. "He? Why, 'tis he who claimed my husband owed him money, and has tried to get payment from me. But we owed him no money. He's an evil, tale-bearing man; but he knows I am not guilty of such wicked things as these."

"All that you can answer to the court," said the clerk. "My business is only to see you taken into custody."

"Is there no way by which she may stay here?" asked Appleton. "I will promise that she will be here when you want her. Or take me as hostage for her."

"She must come," said the clerk. "There's been enough talk, and to spare. Get your cloak and come."

Mistress Swan rose, folded the sampler and put it away in a closet, and got out her cloak and hood. She held out her hand to the schoolmaster. "You've stood by me like an honest man, Thomas. God grant they don't drag you into this!"

He took her offered hand and his eyes glowed as he looked into her face. "If they do you a wrong they shall suffer for it," said he. "There are honest men in Salem as well as knaves."

She smiled at the two boys, who were taking in every incident of the strange scene, and walked out through her doorway, followed by the three grim-looking men.

Mr. Appleton paced the floor. "Infamous!" he exclaimed. "The lies of three wicked children and a villain to stand against the spotless life of such a woman as she! What is Salem coming to? It should hide its head in the ocean for very shame of such a crime! Witchcraft! Yes, there must be witchcraft to make people believe such lies!" He stopped and looked at the boys. "What was the name of this man who brought the charges?"

"Jonathan Leek," answered Mat. "Joe and I heard him talking yesterday at the smithy. A tall black man from Boston, who seemed to know a great deal about witches."

"I will find him," said Appleton. "I will make him take back these words about Mistress Swan, or I will cram them down his throat!"

"But, Master Appleton," said Joe, "suppose he should make the same charges against you. He's a dangerous man. And then you would be arrested, and couldn't be of any help to Mistress Swan."

The schoolmaster stared at Joe. "That's true," he answered slowly. "I must keep my head, and tread right warily. Yes, I must not tell these rascals what I have in my mind about them. But Mistress Swan must be saved. And, to speak the truth, I don't know where I can go for help to save her."

"Joe's father and mine will help," said Mat eagerly. "They both know Mistress Swan. And the children at school will help, and perhaps their fathers too. We'll go home now, and tell what has happened." He picked up his hat, and ran out of the house, Joe at his heels.

They went straight to Mr. Hamlin's house, and, finding him and his wife at home, told them of the arrest of Mistress Swan. "I expected as much," said Mat's father. "All Salem is talking witchcraft to-day, and they tell the most outrageous stories of Mistress Swan, and worst of all, half the people seem to believe them."

"I heard a woman say to-day that Ann Swan gave her baby the croup last December," said Mistress Hamlin. "They're laying every ache and pain their children ever had at her door now. It's scarcely to be believed that people can be so wicked against a kind woman they've known all their lives."

"But what's to be done?" said Mr. Hamlin. "As matters stand the court may find Mistress Swan guilty of witchcraft without any to say a word on her behalf."

"Would they listen to me?" asked Mat. "I could tell them how mean and cruel and hateful John Rowley and Mercy Booth and Susan Parsons are, and what the rest of us at school think about them." He thought a minute. "And as to that man, Jonathan Leek, I'd say that both Joe and I thought him much like a snake."

"Jonathan Leek?" said Mr. Hamlin. "Tell me all you know about him, Mat."

Mat, aided by Joe, told what he had heard Mr. Leek say at the smithy, and also what he had heard Mistress Swan say about him that afternoon. Mr. Hamlin got paper and pen and made notes, and then they planned what might be said in answer to the charges against Mistress Swan. "You bring Master Appleton here after school to-morrow, Mat," said his father. "Then we'll see what can be done to clear Mistress Ann's good name."

School met next morning, but there was more excitement than on the day before, for all the boys and girls had heard how Susan Parsons and Mercy Booth and John Rowley were telling the most remarkable stories about being bewitched. The schoolmaster tried to teach the lessons, but it was plain that he was worried, and that his thoughts were not on the work. Just before the noon recess, Joe, who was reciting, saw Master Appleton look up and then stare at the door at the farther end of the room. Joe turned round to see what was the matter. In the doorway stood the town clerk, with the same two men who had been at Mistress Swan's.

The clerk walked down the passageway between the benches, while all the children stared. He went up to the master's desk, stepped up on the low platform, and laid his hand on Master Appleton's shoulder. He was smiling, as though he took a certain pleasure in the work on hand. "Thomas Appleton," he said, "I arrest you in the name of the court of Salem. You are charged with witchcraft."

The schoolmaster pulled his shoulder away from the clerk's hand. He looked very proud and unconcerned at the charge, as though he were defying all the officers of Salem. "Very good," said he. "You have arrested better people than me for such hocus-pocus. I should feel honored." He shut the school-book that lay open on his desk, and smiled at the children on the front row of benches. "I suppose, Master Clerk," he said, "that you chose this hour, when you knew I would be busy with my scholars, to come to arrest me, so that they might all see the entertainment, and thus make my arrest as public as possible."

"It is some of your own scholars who bring part of the charges against you," retorted the clerk.

"Aye, I know," said Master Appleton. "But they are not here now. Those who are here know me better." He looked at the boys and girls, who were watching intently. "I'm sorry to leave you," he said. "There will be no school for several days, not until they can find another master to take my place. They say I deal in witchcraft, that I take wounded animals and cure them by sending their aches into children, that I can bewitch you so that you do strange things you couldn't do otherwise. These are just fairy tales, nonsense, the most absurd of stories. I know no more of witches than any one of you. There are no such things as witches, there is no such thing as the Evil Eye. But people in Massachusetts are believing in them, men and women here in Salem are letting themselves believe such nonsense. None can say what they will do next. Yet you boys and girls know there are no such evil spirits; you must stand for the right and the truth, and deny such falsehoods. You will, I know. You must help to save Salem such disgrace."

The children were still for a moment, and then Mat spoke up. "Of course there are no witches," he said. "We're old enough to know that." He looked round the room. "All who think as the schoolmaster does, stand up," he commanded.

Every boy and girl stood up.

"I knew it," said the schoolmaster. He turned, smiling, to the clerk. "The children are wiser than their elders," he said. "There is some hope for Salem."

"A very pretty scene," answered the clerk, sarcastically. "But the court may take a different view of it; they might even think you had the children bewitched so's they'd do exactly what you tell 'em to."

"Yes, they might," agreed Master Appleton. "They might use anything against me. To some minds innocence is always the best proof of guilt. Yet I didn't bewitch the children; I have only taught them their lessons, as I was paid to do." He took his hat and cloak from the peg behind his desk. "I am at your service."

Smiling at his scholars, Master Appleton walked down the aisle to the door. As he passed Mat he said, "See to the dogs for me, will you? I shouldn't like them to go hungry."

Mat bobbed his head.

The schoolmaster went out into the lane, with his three guards, while the children crowded to the door and watched until he turned the corner.

III

The fear of witches, like the fear of the plague in the Middle Ages, spread over Massachusetts with amazing rapidity in that winter and spring of 1692, and found one of its chief centers at Salem. Men and women of standing and education were arrested, as well as those who had few friends and little learning, and the wildest and most improbable stories about their actions were told and were believed. As day followed day the three "afflicted children," John Rowley, Susan Parsons, and Mercy Booth, told more and more fantastic tales about Mistress Swan and Master Appleton, and Jonathan Leek spread these stories so thoroughly that soon there was not a man, woman, or child in Salem, or in the neighboring country, who had not heard how the accused schoolmaster and Ann Swan had bewitched the three. To hear a story about witchcraft at that time was usually to believe it, and many people had condemned the man and woman in their own minds long before the court took up the case against them.