Afraid sir!—Who are you!
Yes—you are afraid of that man. If you are not, why allow him to disturb the gravity of such an hour as this? Know your own power—Bid the High-sheriff take him into custody.
A laugh here from the sturdy yeoman, who having paid his quota for building the house, and fought his share of the fight with the Indians, felt as free as the best of them.
Speak but the word, Sirs, and I will do what I see your officer hath not valor enough to do. Speak but the word, Sirs! and I that know your power, will obey it, (uplifting the staff as he spoke, while the fire flashed from his eyes, and the crowd gave way on every side as if it were the tomahawk or the bow of a savage)—speak but the word I say! and I will strike him to the earth!
George Burroughs—I pray thee! said a female, who sat in a dark part of the house with her head so muffled up that nobody could see her face—I pray thee, George! do not strike thy brother in wrath.
Speak but the word I say, and lo! I will stretch him at your feet, if he refuse to obey me, whatever may be the peril to me or mine.
I should like to see you do it, said the man. I care as little for you, my boy,—throwing off his outer-garb as he spoke, and preparing for a trial of strength on the spot—as little for you, George Burroughs, if that is your name, as I do for your master.
Will you not speak! You see how afraid of him they all are, judges; you know how long he has braved your authority—being a soldier forsooth. Speak, if ye are wise; for if ye do not—
George! George!... No, no, George! said somebody at his elbow, with a timid voice, that appeared to belong to a child.
The uplifted staff dropped from his hand.