The minister smiled somewhat sadly. “I fear me much, goodwife, that I can never reach the higher altitudes of sanctity where these saintly men live. The even tenor of their ways is never troubled by the doubts which sometimes harass mine. Perchance it is because I have seen so much of the evil of intolerance in my own country that I am sick at heart to see it powerful in this great new land. I have offended the elders of the South Parish by mildly hinting that the good Lord might even look with favor on a Papist if the misguided brother was honest in his interpretation of the Master’s will.” “But,” he continued, “let us not spoil this happy occasion by theological discussion. I had quite an adventure on my way to Truro last night. Strange things are happening in our midst, Goodman Rich. Dost wish to hear what befell me?” “Aye, sir, and if you please,” answered my father. “But before you commence, the goodwife will mix you a brew from the last wreck.” My mother was skilled in the art of concocting a life-giving draught based on the Jamaica which came ashore from the wreck of the brig “Mary,” and soon we were listening to the minister’s tale which I give in our own speech. * * * * * CHAPTER V. Uncle Jabez Spins A Yarn. (continued) You know where Goody Hallett lives, Goodman Rich? It is a lonely spot. After spending an hour last evening with your beloved pastor, Mr. Webb, I resumed my journey to Truro just as the shades of evening were gathering, expecting to reach Mr. Avery’s in time for his usually late supper. Before I had gone very far, my horse showed a slight lameness and I was, perforce, obliged to travel at a slow pace. Night comes on rapidly at this season and it was very dark when I reached the confines of Billingsgate. I had long since left the thickly populated district behind and I guided my horse carefully over the dunes as I was not sure of the way, not having been accustomed to traveling by night in that region of the Cape. An occasional star gleamed fitfully through the cloud rifts, but there was no other light to be seen on either hand. The booming of the ocean to my right told me that my direction was northerly and I felt sure I had not lost my way. Suddenly I heard voices and I stopped my horse. Peering through the inky darkness I discerned a faint glimmer about fifty yards from me, as I judged. I wondered what the light meant as I was certain the locality was uninhabited. Hitching my horse to a tree, I cautiously approached the light, the voices becoming more distinct as I advanced. Then I realized that I was in the vicinity of Goody Hallett’s hut, but as I knew she lived alone I was at a loss to account for the altercation which was in progress.