“I be no witch,” cried Deliverance, shrilly. “Dear Lord, give them a sign I be no witch.”
The Beadle pounded his staff for silence.
“Let Ebenezer Gibbs come into court.”
Chapter VIII
The Last Witness
In answer to these summons, a child came slowly up the aisle, clinging to his mother’s skirts. His thin little legs tottered under him; his face was peaked and wan, and he hid it in his mother’s dress. When the Beadle sought to lift him, he wept bitterly, and had to be taken by force, and placed upon the platform where the accused was seated. The poor baby gasped for breath. His face grew rigid, his lips purple. His tiny hands, which were like bird’s claws, so thin and emaciated were they, clinched, and he fell in convulsions.
An angry murmur from the people was instantly succeeded by the deepest silence.
The magistrates and people breathlessly awaited the result of the coming experiment.