Faint and exhausted, they bound her hands behind her back and her ankles tightly together, before, amidst tremendous shouting and yelling, she was lifted by four strong men, and literally thrown into, the cart, which was then set in motion, with Sir Thomas following behind with his sword drawn, and the people going before and crowding after, as the wheels sank down first on one side in the ruts, then on the other, revealing the wretched woman, who was now goaded to desperation, and had struggled up into a kneeling position, which she could hardly maintain for the rolling of the cart. Every time she was nearly thrown down the crowd yelled with delight: and on some rustic genius throwing a clod of earth at her, his example was followed, and the poor wretch knelt there cowering from the shower of missiles sent into the cart. At last she contrived to get her wrists loosed from the ill-tied cords; and, holding the cart-side with one hand, she raised the other, and shrieked out anathema after anathema against her persecutors, uttering such horrible curses against them that the less bold shrank away and the stoutest began to quail. But Mother Goodhugh's reign of cursing was nearly at an end; for, as the founder indignantly watched the proceedings, a great lad close by him picked up and hurled a lump of sand-rock at the wretched creature, striking her full in the temple, and, amidst a shout of triumph, the miserable woman fell stunned and bleeding to the bottom of the cart. "That were a good hurl, master," cried the lout, with a broad grin. "Yes," said the founder, fiercely, "and so was that!" As he spoke, he struck the great, broad-faced fellow straight in the cheek, and he rolled over into one of the cart-ruts, whilst the procession with Mother Goodhugh, fortunately insensible now to pain, turned a corner of the winding lane, and passed out of the founder's sight. Volume 3, Chapter XI. HOW ROEHURST KEPT FETE FOR A WEDDING AND A DEATH. Truly Satan must have been reigning upon earth in full fig when it was found necessary to execute thirty of his disciples at one time in Edinburgh. As for poor Mrs Hicks and her little daughter, aged nine, who were hanged at Huntingdon in 1716, they might have rejoiced at the opportunity of getting out of such a world of fools and ignorance. They must have been great sinners, though, for they had sold their souls to the devil, and--crowning atrocity!--they had raised a storm, and the recipe is handed down to posterity, for the _modus operandi_ was "pulling off their stockings and making a lather of soap!" If for such a crime as this a tender child of nine could be punished with death in Christian England in those salutary days, there can be no wonder that Mother Goodhugh's condemnation was pretty sure. She was the known witch of the neighbourhood, and those who had feared her, sought her help, and paid her, were among the first to give evidence against the repository of their secrets.