"We want Mistress Swan," answered the town clerk, his eyes very stern and forbidding. "She stands accused of dealing in Black Arts and other evil business. She must go with us to the jail, there to await examination of the charges brought against her."
"It's an infamy," cried the schoolmaster, "and a lie! You've known Mistress Swan for years, and you know her to be as innocent as your own wives!"
The town clerk glowered at Thomas Appleton. "Have a care," said he, his voice like steel scraping on iron. "Have a care lest it be your turn next, Master Appleton."
"I care nothing for that," hotly retorted the master. "Gladly would I go with you in Mistress Swan's place. But to think that you charge her, the soul of gentleness and kindness to every one, with such an infamous thing! What can you be thinking of? How can any man or woman or child in Salem bring such charges against Mistress Swan?"
"They have been brought, nevertheless," responded the clerk. "There are three children claim to have been bewitched by her, and there is a man, Jonathan Leek, who tells of strange happenings."
"Jonathan Leek?" exclaimed Mistress Swan. "He? Why, 'tis he who claimed my husband owed him money, and has tried to get payment from me. But we owed him no money. He's an evil, tale-bearing man; but he knows I am not guilty of such wicked things as these."
"All that you can answer to the court," said the clerk. "My business is only to see you taken into custody."
"Is there no way by which she may stay here?" asked Appleton. "I will promise that she will be here when you want her. Or take me as hostage for her."
"She must come," said the clerk. "There's been enough talk, and to spare. Get your cloak and come."