“No,” said the citizen. “It’s dying out. They mostly hang people now.”
A man in a sad-coloured dress spoke with an abrupt, harsh voice. “There are sins that you should burn for. I believe not in your weak mercy. What is good enough for God on High is good enough for me. He burns sinners. If you do not believe in burning sinners, you do not believe in God as shown forth in his written Word.”
“I think witches should be burned,” said the citizen.
The first country speaker put in his word again. “I saw one burned once when I was a young man! She was a tall, fair wench, and when the flames went up around her she cried out only one thing to the crowd of us watching. She cried it thrice. ‘When you feel fire, feel what you have believed!’”
“What did she mean?” asked the citizen.
“I do not know,” answered the countryman. “There’s been an outbreak of witches this summer! They’re getting very bold in the North. If you hear of one, the next day you hear of another. For one thing, as soon as there’s known to be a witch abroad, people are on the lookout—”
The downpour of rain had lessened into a shower.
“Make sail!” said the mate.
Leaving the porch, the three from the Eagle moved on up the narrow street between the rain-washed houses. They were now at no great distance from their destination. As they walked the two tried to hear the questions that would be put to them and to frame answers.... But it was difficult, difficult. In both the impulse that was gathering strength, that was, as they both now began to perceive, the destined conqueror, was the impulse still to serve the truth. They were not fanatic, and they loved life. But side by side with the recognition that hardly, hardly could they escape, that they would have to make a tissue of statements that could and in all human likelihood would be disproved, streamed stronger and stronger the distaste for that web of misstatement, the liking for a plain relation of their being and its acts. They were conscious of no ecstasy, no hot, martyr enthusiasm, but direction was taken. With that deep inward movement came to each a feeling of strengthened personality, of unison, harmony....
The wet and glistening street, the houses, the roofs, the sky, the people passing up and down,—the windows, the signs—Before them they saw a swinging tavern sign, painted and cut in the shape of a great hourglass. The tavern had a wide window, overhanging the street, and in the window, as the three from the Eagle came in line with it, appeared the ruddy, determined face of the agent of the Company. He looked out upon the street from which the rain had in great part driven the people; saw and hailed his fellow voyagers.