When all was still again a footstep stole over the turf and paused before the threshold. This was followed by a low knock and a gentle stir of the latch string. Brown went to the door. The ruddy color had left his cheek, but his hand was firm as it lifted the wooden bar and threw the door wide open. A young man stood in the opening, and the light fell upon his face. "Wal, now, if this don't beat all. Is it raly you? Come in, come in, and shet the door, for just as true as you live there's live Injuns around to-night." The young man came in, lifting the cap from his head as he entered. He was a workman employed on the vessel. Then Brown attempted to appear unconcerned, but his face was disturbed and his voice shook. "Why, you seem to be frightened," said the young man. "What at?" "Did you meet nothing on the way?" asked Brown. "Yes, a flock of sea-gulls wheeling out to sea." "And nothing more--no red Injuns?" "Red Indians! Indeed, I saw nothing worse than myself," was the cheerful reply. "And did you pass close to the window?" asked the hired man. "Yes, I passed the window." "And did you twist one face into ten, and crown them all with eagles' quills?" "No, not exactly that, but I did look in." "And no one else?" asked Brown. "Truly, friends, you question me close, but I was alone." "Husband," said Goody Brown, in a solemn whisper, "it might have been a witch gathering. Who knows?" Jason Brown turned deadly white, and the hired man thrust the awl through his thumb. "In that case you had better not speak of it," said the young man, with a shade of gravity. "It is almost as dangerous to be visited by witches as to join in their wicked rioting. I remember, at the last trial, it was set forth in evidence that the woods around here were given up to witchcraft: I for one do not believe it, but yet if you saw the faces?" "We did! we did!" "Crowned with eagles' plumes?" "Yes, like savage Indians." "But no Indian would dare flount his war plumes in this neighborhood. It is too near Boston for that." "True, how is that possible? The tribes are quiet now," answered Brown, thoughtfully. "It is witchcraft beyond a doubt," whispered the good wife. "I remember, now, the needles turned to stones in my hands. I lost all power to move them." "And my feet were nailed to the hearth," answered Jason. "I, who never knew what it was to be scared in my life, could not move." "See how the pestilent things have wounded me," added the hired man, exhibiting his thumb from which the blood was falling in heavy drops. "Hark! I hear footsteps again," whispered the good wife. Sure enough, slow and steady footsteps came across the turf, and a knock sounded at the door. "I will open it," said the young man, cheerfully. "No witchcraft can harm me, save that of a bright eye and cherry lip."