They seemed to be fanning their own passions, adding fuel to the flames of their insensate wrath. There was the source of all the evil which might have befallen the peaceful valley of the Thames! the creature with the evil eye, the dispenser of misery and death! They had forgotten the guard now. Their lawlessness knew no bounds. But for the incessant din of the merry-makers at the Fair, the banging of the drums, and the shouts of the criers, their own yells of execration, their violent curses, and the shrieks of the captive girl could not have failed to attract attention. But every one was busy laughing and enjoying the last hours of this happy day. No one came to interfere in this devilish work which was about to be consummated. And every word the poor woman uttered but brought further vituperation upon her. She shouted, "Help!" "Hark, my masters," sneered Matthew loftily, "she calls to Satan for help." "What will you do with me?" she pleaded. "I've done you no wrong." "Thou hast brought the devil in our midst." "No! no!" "I saw thee riding on a broomstick--going to thy Sabbath revels." "'Tis false!" "Tie her to the pole--quick!" The so-called witch, the friend of Satan and of all the powers of darkness, fell upon her knees in an agony of the wildest despair. Realizing her position, the terrible doom which was awaiting her, her whole figure seemed to writhe with the agony of her horror. She dragged herself to Matthew's knees--he seemed to be leading the others--she wrenched her arms free from those who held her and threw them round him. She forced her voice to gentleness and pleading, tried to appeal to what was a stone wall of unconquerable prejudice. "Sirs, kind sirs," she entreated, "you would not harm a poor girl who had done you no wrong? . . . you won't harm me--you won't. . . . Oh, God!" she shrieked in her frenzy, "you wouldn't--you wouldn't--Holy Virgin, protect me----" A rough hand was placed over her mouth and her last yells were smothered as she was ruthlessly dragged away. Then with two or three leather belts she was securely tied to the flagstaff, whilst a thick woollen scarf was wound round her face and neck, leaving only the eyes free to roam wildly on the awful scene around. Awful indeed! Man turned to savage beast in the frenzy of his own fear. Swift and silent, like so many rodents in the night, the men began collecting bits of wood, broke up their sticks into small pieces, tore branches down from the old elm tree. Matthew the while, still the ringleader of this dastardly crew, was directing these gruesome operations. "Hist!" he admonished incessantly, "not so much noise. . . . We don't want the guard to come this way, do we? . . . Now, John the smith, quick, where's thy resin? . . . James the wheelwright, thy tinder, friend. . . . Here! these faggots are not close enough. . . . Some more on the left there!"