Charles was unprepared for such a sermon, and had no desire to be bored with it, yet he was left without choice in the matter.
The young widow came to his relief and took him off under her protection and soon made him forget that he had ever been rebuked by the parson. Certainly, he had never met a more agreeable person than Sarah Williams. Her husband was a brother of Mrs. Parris, and she wielded a great influence in the minister's family. Gradually she absorbed more and more of Charles Stevens' society, telling him of her recent visit to Boston, and of the latest news from England, inquiring about his mother, and talking only on the subjects which most interested him. He thought her a charming woman.
The hour was late ere they knew it, and Puritanic New England was an enemy to late hours. Sarah declared she must go home.
"Come again, Sarah," said Mrs. Parris.
"I will. Verily, I must go; but see, the moon is down, how dark it is."
Charles was not slower to take the hint than a young man of our own day. Humanity has been the same since Eve first evinced her power over Adam in the garden. Ever since, men have been led by a pretty face often to their ruin. Charles, in a bashful, awkward way, informed the young widow that he was going the same road, and it would not be much out of his way to accompany her to her very door. Of course she was pleased, and Charles and the young widow went away together.
"Have you never learned the fate of your husband, Sarah?" he asked.
"No; poor Samuel is dead," she answered.
"It is sad that you know not his fate. Was he drowned at sea, killed by the Indians, or murdered by the pirates?"
"I know not. I am very lonely now, Charles."