Some ten years before I was born, the Rev. Samuel Treat died. He had served the people for forty-four years, and his funeral was the occasion of great grief to all. He was beloved by the Indians. Two years after this, the pirate ship “Whidah” was wrecked during a great storm. One hundred and two bodies were washed ashore and buried on the dunes. Only two of the crew survived, an Englishman and an Indian. They disappeared almost immediately after they were rescued and nobody knew where they went to. I have often heard my father describe that fearful night. The raging ocean burst through the Cape, opening a passage through which boats could pass. Daylight revealed a dreadful sight. The sands were strewn with the bodies of the dead pirates. An immense concourse gathered from all parts of the Cape to view the scene and, if possible, to have their share of the treasure which Sam Bellamy, the pirate captain, was supposed to have had on board. Some of you, my masters, may know all of this; all of you may know some of it, but as my story has to deal with the “strange man” who frequented this district some years after the wreck of the pirate, I hope I have not trespassed on your patience by this allusion to the event which was responsible for the stranger’s appearance in our town. Years passed by, and I was a stout lad of ten when I first heard of this man. He had been seen on the Wellfleet beach, apparently searching for something. The scene of his operations was just below the hut of Goody Hallett, on the line between Eastham and what is now Wellfleet. Goody Hallett lived alone. She was old and most people regarded her as a witch, but this was probably because she kept much to herself. She was expert at the spinning-wheel and ostensibly supported herself by this industry. She never asked charity, though people wondered how so old a woman could earn enough to keep her from want. She courted seclusion, and the situation of her small dwelling, far removed from the prying eyes of neighbors, favored this. A tall, thin woman, with dark features strongly telling of Indian blood, her appearance went far to confirm the idea that she rode the broomstick and could work charms. She was not a native of this place. It was said she belonged to a distant part of the Cape, beyond Yarmouth, and she arrived in Eastham soon after the wreck of the “Whidah.” The stranger was described as a man of fierce aspect. His beard and mustachios were originally coal-black but time had whitened the pointed ends. His face was scarred in many places. Those who brought the news of his presence said that when he discovered that he was being watched his features were contorted with passion and his expression was that of the Evil One. Allowing for some exaggeration on the part of the frightened beholders, there could be no doubt but that this stranger of forbidding mien desired to avoid the observation of the inhabitants while he pursued his mysterious search of the sands.