"Yea, verily it is," Lieutenant Ingersol answered; "but you have not seen the beginning of the wonders of witchcraft in this village. Satan surely hath been loosed for a little season."
"I have heard much of the sore afflictions of the children at the home of Mr. Parris," remarked Mr. Lawson.
"And they are sorely afflicted, as I can bear testimony. After tea we will walk over to his house."
Mr. Lawson assented, and Mary Walcut was sent home. After an early tea, Mr. Lawson went to the parsonage, which was but a short distance. Mr. Parris met them at the door. His white, cadaverous face, prominent cheek bones, aquiline nose, piercing eyes, and wild, disheveled hair giving him a strange, weird appearance. He greeted Reverend Mr. Lawson warmly and thanked him for coming all the way from Boston to preach for him next Lord's Day.
"I am so sorely tried with my many afflictions, that I cannot compose my mind for sermonizing."
"I have heard somewhat of the afflictions and troubles that beset you," Rev. Deodat Lawson answered.
"Verily you cannot have heard more than has occurred. I am maligned, misunderstood and beset everywhere by the enemies of God."
"Meet it with prayer and humiliation," answered Mr. Lawson.
"I do—I do—and, verily, the Lord is making my enemies my footstool. Many are already in prison, and many more will yet go to the gallows." The pastor gnashed his teeth in silent rage, while his eyes gleamed with hate.
"How are the afflicted children?" asked Mr. Lawson.