She trembled, hesitated a moment and acquiesced. They went slowly down the path, neither saying a word until the brook was reached. When they were seated on the bank, Charles asked:
"Cora, are you still persecuted by Mr. Parris? Does he continue to denounce you?"
"He does."
"That is an evidence that he is a man of low qualities. And he still assails Goody Nurse?"
"Yes, sir. Goody Nurse, Goody Corey, Bishop and Casty have all been cried out upon, and it is not known when they will stop."
"This craze has assumed dangerous proportions, Cora."
"It has. They are going to law," she answered. "Some are already in jail."
"I have heard of it, and, with prejudiced judges and juries and false witnesses, life will be in great peril."
"I know it."
Then Charles was silent for a moment, listening to the song of a bird in its leafy bower. When the feathered songster had warbled forth his lay and flown to a distant tree on which to try its notes, Charles asked: