Why? Robert—
Hush—hush—you stoop down your head here, an’ I’ll satisfy you o’ the truth o’ what I say.... Barbara Snow, and Judy Hubbard have been to make oath, and they wanted Bridgy Pope to make oath too—they’d do as much for her they said—how ’t you come to their bed-side about a week ago, along with a witch that maybe you’ve heerd of—a freckled witch with red hair and a big hump on her back—
No no—cried the preacher, clapping his hand over the boy’s mouth and hastily interchanging a look with Elizabeth, whose eyes filled with a gush of sorrow, when she thought of her brave good sister, and of what she would feel at the remark of the boy ... a remark, the bitter truth of which was made fifty times more bitter by his age, and by the very anxiety he showed to keep it away from her quick sensitive ear.
But Rachel was not like Elizabeth; for though she heard the remark, she did not even change color, but went up to the boy, and put both arms about his neck with a smile, and gave him a hearty kiss ... and bid him be a good boy, and a prop for his widowed mother.
A moment more and they were all on their way. It was very dark for a time, and the great wilderness through which their path lay, appeared to overshadow the whole earth, and here and there to shoot up a multitude of branches—up—up—into the very sky—where the stars and the moon appeared to be adrift, and wallowing on their way through a sea of shadow.
Me go too? said a voice, apparently a few feet off, as they were feeling for a path in the thickest part of the wood.
The preacher drew up as if an arrow had missed him. Who are you? said he—
No no, George ... let me speak—
Do you know the voice?
No—but I’m sure ’tis one that I have heard before.