_Ann._ I know not. Once I thought I heard Olive calling. I know not what I heard. _Giles._ You'd best have stayed at home. Where is your mother, Olive? _Olive._ She has gone to Goodwife Bishop's with a basket of eggs. _Giles._ Gone three miles to Goodwife Bishop's this time of night? Is the woman gone out of her senses? _Olive._ She is not afraid. _Giles._ I'll warrant she is not afraid. So much the worse for her. Mayhap she's gone riding on a broomstick herself. How is the cat? _Olive._ She is better. _Giles._ She was taken strangely, if your mother did make light of it. And the ox, hath he fell down again? _Olive._ Not that I have heard. _Giles._ The ox was taken strangely, if your mother did pooh at it. The ox was better when she went out of the yard. _Phoebe._ There's Aunt Corey now. Who is she talking to? _Enter_ Martha Corey. _Phoebe._ Who were you talking to, Aunt Corey? _Martha._ Nobody, child. Good-evening, Ann. _Phoebe._ I heard you talking to somebody, Aunt Corey. _Martha._ Be quiet, child. I was talking to nobody. You hear too much nowadays. [_Takes off her cloak._ _Nancy._ Mayhap she hears more than folk want her to. I heard a voice too, a gruff voice like a pig's. _Giles._ I thought I heard talking too. Who was it, Martha? _Martha._ I tell you 'twas no one. Are you all out of your wits? [_Gets some knitting-work out of a cupboard and seats herself._ _Phoebe._ Weren't you afraid coming through the wood, Aunt Corey? _Martha_ (_laughing_). Afraid? Why, no, child. Of what should I be afraid? _Giles._ I trow there's plenty to be afraid of. How did you get home so quick? 'Tis a good three miles to Goody Bishop's. _Martha._ I walked at a good speed. _Giles._ I thought perhaps you galloped a broomstick. _Martha._ Nay, goodman, I know not how to manage such a strange steed. _Giles._ I thought perhaps one had taught you, inasmuch as you have naught to say against the gentry that ride the broomstick of a night. _Martha._ Fill not the child's head with such folly. How fares your mother, Ann? _Ann._ Well, Goodwife Corey. _Giles._ She lacks sense, or she would have kept her daughter at home. Out after nightfall, and the woods full of the devil knoweth what. _Martha._ Nay, goodman, there be no danger. The scouts are in the fields. _Giles._ I meant not Injuns. There be worse than Injuns. There be evil things and witches! _Martha_ (_laughing_). Witches! Goodman, you are a worse child than Phoebe here. _Giles._ I tell ye, wife, you talk like a fool, ranting thus against witches. I would you had been where I have been to-night, and heard the afflicted maids cry out in torment, being set upon by Sarah Good and Sarah Osborn. I would you had seen Mercy Lewis strangled almost to death, and the others testifying 'twas Sarah Good thus afflicting her. But I'll warrant you'd not have believed them.