At this Goodwife Cloyse, who sat next to Deliverance, rose and left the meeting-house in displeasure. She believed the text alluded to her sister, who was then in prison charged with having a familiar spirit. The next day she too was cried upon and cast into prison as a witch, although a woman of purest life. Deliverance thrilled with terror at the incident. She felt she had been seated next to a witch, and this in God’s own house. Moreover she imagined a sudden pain in her right arm, and dreaded lest a spell had been cast on her. The day which opened with so fearful an event was to end yet more ominously. Following the sermon came the pleasant nooning-hour. The people gathered in family groups on the meeting-house steps, or sought the shade of the nearby trees and ate their lunches. The goodwives provided bountifully for the soldiers, and the judges ate with the minister and his family. Toward the end of the nooning-hour Master Wentworth sent Deliverance to carry to Goodwife Gibbs the tea he had brewed. “Father sends ye this, goodwife,” said the little maid; “it be a strengthening draught for Ebenezer. He bids me tell ye a fever sickness has seized o’ the child.” The goodwife snatched the bottle and flung it violently from her. “Get ye gone with your brew, ye witch-maid! No fever sickness ails my little son, but a spell ye have put upon him.” She began to weep sorely. Duty compelled her to attend meeting, the while her heart sickened that she must leave her little son in the care of a servant wench. The gossips crowded around her in sympathy. Dark looks were cast upon Deliverance, and muttered threats were made. Their voices rose with their growing anger, until the minister, walking arm-in-arm with Master Wentworth, heard them and was roused to righteous indignation. “Hush, gossips,” he said sternly, “we will have no high words on the Lord’s holy day, but peace and comfort and meek and contrite hearts, else we were hypocrites. We will continue our discussion next week, Master Wentworth,” he added, turning to his companion, “for the nooning-hour is done.” Master Wentworth, who was given to day-dreaming, had scarce heard the hubbub, and had not even perceived his daughter, who was standing near by. So, a serene smile on his countenance, he followed the minister into the meeting-house. His little maid, very sorrowful at this fresh trouble which had come upon her, and not being able to attract his attention before he entered the building, wandered away into the churchyard. That afternoon the tithing-man missed her in the congregation. So he tiptoed out of the meeting-house in search of her. He called up softly to the watchman,— “Take your spy-glass and search if ye see aught o’ Mistress Deliverance Wentworth.”