did. Ha! ha! ha! and then she defied and cursed me, and said she'd go

to Father Brisdone and turn Roman Catholic. I told her to go, and he'd curse her for cursing, for it is his trade, and she has no right to handle such tools at all."

"Poor weak woman," said the founder. "She is more to be pitied than blamed. I suppose she thinks in her heart that I am the cause of all her woes."

"Ay, poor soul, but it's partly vanity, friend Cobbe. She likes to set up for a prophetess, a sort of diluted Deborah, and to make the people believe in her. There, you must go and see her. If I go to her, being the good man of the parish, she will have naught to say to me. Now, you being a wicked man, may have more influence than I."

"I influence? Nay, man; she'll fall a cursing if I go nigh her cot."

"Let her curse. Her words won't hurt thee, man. Go to her, and give her money--thou hast enough--bid her get away far enough from this place to somewhere safe; and when there, tell her to live a decent life and forget her silly trickstering and stuff. It's a fine opportunity for thee, Jeremiah Cobbe. It's just the sort of revenge thou lik'st to take on an enemy. Go and pour coals of fire on her head, for I'm sure this place isn't safe for such as she."

"Would Sir Thomas imprison her?" said the founder.

"Sir Thomas is so good and honest a justice of the peace, and so great a lover of the words of his Majesty the King, who made him the baronet he is, that he would set up a stake, scatter Dame Beckley's dried simples and herbs around it, heap it with goodly faggots, and burn Mother Goodhugh for a witch while the Roehurst people would look on."

"Thinkest thou this, Master Peasegood?"

"I'm sure of it," said the parson, dashing down his pipe in his anger. "Jeremiah Cobbe, it makes me as mad as Moses to see what fools the people are. We have just got rid of the superstitions of Rome, sir, and we go at once and set up the golden calf of witchcraft, and worship it, from our ruler to the humblest peasant in his realm. By my word, Master Cobbe, an' I had had the two tables in my hands like the old prophet, I'd not have broken them on the rocks, but upon the thick-boned skulls of my erring folk."

"Not worship the idol--condemn it, Master Peasegood," said the founder, smiling.

"Well, but we believe it," cried the other. "Out upon us all, but we are sorry-fools."

"I'll go and do this thing, Master Peasegood," said the founder, after musing for a few minutes.

"That's right; I knew thou would'st."

"But maybe she will not go."

"Then take her, like the angels did Lot of old, and thrust her out of the place. Tell her Roehurst will prove a Sodom to her if she does not go, for i' faith she'll go to the flames, in spite of all I can do or say."

"I'll go to her this very evening, Master Peasegood."

"Then I will go my way," cried the parson; and, paying one more attention to the flagon, he rose, shook hands, and left.