"Those evil spirits have oft a filthy countenance," explained the shoemaker sententiously, "and no doubt 'twas they helped to convulse Mistress Hannah's child. Some have four faces--one in the usual place, another at the back of the head, and one looking out on either side; others appear with a tall and lean body and bellow like a bull." "Hast seen them, Matthew?" came in awed whispers from those around. "Nay! God and the Holy Virgin forbid!" protested Matthew fervently. "God forbid that I should enter their abode of evil. I should lose my soul." There was a long, ominous silence, broken only by quickly muttered invocations to the saints and to Our Lady. The men looked furtively at one another. The women clung together, not daring to utter a sound. Mistress Dorothy, all the boldness gone out of her little heart, was sobbing from sheer fright. "Friends," said Matthew at last, as if with sudden resolution, "if that woman be possessed of the devil, what's to be done?" There was no reply, but obviously they all understood one another, for each wore a shame-faced look all of a sudden, and dared not meet his neighbour's eye. But the danger was great. The devil in their midst would mean poisoned wells, the sweating sickness, some dire calamity for sure; and it was the duty of every true-hearted countryman to protect his home and family from such terrible disasters. Therefore when Matthew in his wisdom said, "What's to be done?" the men fully understood. The women, too, knew that mischief was brewing. They drew closer to one another and shivered with cold beneath their kerchiefs, in spite of the warmth of this beautiful late summer's afternoon. "Beware of her, Matthew," entreated Mistress Dorothy tearfully. She drew a small piece of blue cloth from the bosom of her dress: it was pinked and broidered, and had the image of the Holy Virgin painted on one side of it. Quickly she slipped it under her lover's jerkin. "Take it," she whispered, "the scapulary of Our Lady will protect thee." This momentous conclave was here interrupted by the approach of the small detachment of the town guard which had been sent hither to ensure order amongst the holiday-makers. Matthew and his friends began ostentatiously to talk of the weather and other such trifling matters, until after the guard had passed, then once more they put their heads together. But this time they bade the women go. What had to be discussed now was men's work and unfit for wenches' ears. CHAPTER IV FRIENDS AND ENEMIES In the meanwhile the two gallants were returning from their visit to the witch's tent. As they came down the steps more than one voice among the passers-by inquired eagerly-- "What fortune, sirs?" "In truth she hath strange powers," was the somewhat guarded response.