The old woman, who was half-way down-stairs, came back again, alarmed by that sharp cry.
"Tituba, you told me that Mistress Barbara Stafford was ill and wished to be left alone."
"So she is," answered the old woman, entering the room and closing the door after her.
"But I saw her just now."
"Saw her, Miss Lizzybeth!" answered the Indian, listening keenly to a rustling sound that came from the stairs. "Saw her! why everybody is asleep in the house. What did you get up for, child?"
"Oh, Tituba, I am so restless! There is something strange, terrible, going on in this house. What is the matter with Abby? What keeps this woman here when nobody wants her? Is she truly ill? When did you see her last?"
"This very morning," asserted Tituba, who had in truth seen Barbara near the door, and now heard her moving in the back room.
Elizabeth leaned her head on one hand as if some distressing thought pained her.
"Strange! strange!" she muttered.
"Do you want me any longer?" asked the Indian still listening keenly.