"Her black horse is trampling on my breast!" groaned Sarah Churchill.
"Make her look away; turn her head!" cried several in the crowd. And one of the constables caught Dulcibel by the arm, and turned her around roughly.
"This is horrible!" cried Thomas Putnam—"and so young and fair-looking, too!"
"Ah, they are the worst ones, Master Putnam," said his sympathetic friend, the Rev. Master Parris.
"She looks young and pretty, but she may really be a hundred years old," said deacon Snuffles.
Quiet at last being restored, Magistrate Hathorne said:
"Dulcibel Burton, why do you torment Mistress Putnam and these others in this grievous fashion?"
"I do not torment them," replied Dulcibel calmly, but a little scornfully.
"Who does torment them, then?"
"How should I know—perhaps Satan."