On the evening of this day, two persons were seen on their way to the house of Mr. Parris, the clergyman of Danvers, at that time called 'Salem village.' One of these was a young man of genteel appearance, and the other a female, whose dress was that of a country maiden, but whose sharp countenance and cunning, selfish aspect denoted that she was intelligent beyond her apparent condition. The conversation was earnest and vehement on both sides; and as they approached the house, the slowness of their pace indicated that their plans, or purposes, were not fully matured.
'This business looks too serious to me,' said the female; 'I hardly dare undertake it. Miss Graham must be innocent; and how can I be the cause of her death?'
'Did you not say,' said Trellison, 'that she had been the cause of constant torment and vexation, that she controlled your movements, and by a look suspended your purposes; that in her presence, you would weep or smile, without any cause whatever? Moreover, did you not see her at that cursed sacrament of devils, where every vow is sealed by blood, and where she solemnly ratified the hellish compact? What are all these but proofs of her damnable affinity with Satan? You cannot go back. The Lord requires your service, and it must be done.'
'But, Mr. Trellison,' replied the female, 'if I take this course, what will become of me? I shall be shunned by the good; and if Miss Graham is acquitted, where shall I find recompense and security?'
'Have I not told you of recompense? Is it nothing to free the world from the possessed of Satan? Is it nothing to foil the great adversary of soul and body? Is it nothing to free yourself from these annoyances? Is it nothing, Clarissa, to save your own life?'
'My own life—what is that worth, Mr. Trellison, if the mind is loaded with conscious guilt? Even now, I start at every shadow, and imagine a foe in every one I meet. And what is the amount of this victory over Satan, as you call it? Why it seems to me, such a victory would be my ruin. But I have started in the race, and fate seems to press me onward. I may be doing God service. Will you, Mr. Trellison, pledge yourself that my reward shall be reasonable and sure?'
'I have pledged my word, and the assurances of all the faithful are yours, that whatever injury any one suffers in this righteous cause, shall be fully recompensed. You shall be rewarded.'
They now separated as they approached the house, and Clarissa, who had been fully instructed in the part she was to act, entered the kitchen, and took her place with the servant, with whom she had long been acquainted. Trellison, as he entered the parlor, saw Mr. Parris, through an open door, seated in his library alone. They had long been familiar acquaintances, and though the clergyman was many years his senior, yet he was fully aware of the reputation of his friend for piety, and had known him personally since his first entrance at Harvard College. After some desultory conversation, the mournful events of the day were called up, and Mr. Parris remarked, that he looked back upon its scenes with extreme agitation and horror. 'Surely, Mr. Trellison,' said he, 'it was a dreadful sacrifice. But how could it be avoided?'