Another fear came. Hannah had seen the old witch stretch out her hand and stroke the soft, yellow fur of Old Buff.
"She might have bewitched him," thought the little girl, "but I'll tell no one."
At noon Hannah's father came in with more trouble to tell of Goody Walford. Her husband would not let her feed his cattle for fear she would bewitch them.
After sunset Goodwife Evans, frightened by the reports, came to the Puddington house and begged that she might stay for the night.
"I am followed by a yellowish cat wherever I go. I am sure 'tis the witch work of Goody Walford. Oh, don't open that door!" she cried. "It will come in." She dropped trembling to the settle.
Little Hannah's fright was quite as great in her secret fear that Old Buff might be the witch-cat. She gasped when she saw her father take his gun from the wall.
"We'll put an end to these witch-cats," he declared, and stalked out.
Hannah held her breath in fear. She heard no shot, however. At last her father came in and looked over his gun.
"It wouldn't work," he muttered.
"There is more witchwork going on inside this house," his wife remarked as she looked over his shoulder at the gun. "Your new stockings that I finished last week have holes in them already."