"No more talking and gossip now, Prue; the time has arrived for fearful deeds."
Prudence put her small white hand on her friend's arm.
"Stay, Judith. Be guided—for the love of me be guided, sweetheart! You know not what you do. The profaning of sacred places will bring a punishment."
"Profaning, say you, sweet mouse? Is it anything worse than the children playing tick round the grave-stones; or even, when no one is looking, having a game of King-by-your-leave?"
"It is late, Judith. It must be nine o'clock. It is not seemly that a young maiden should be out-of-doors alone at such an hour of the night."
"Marry, that say I," was the light answer. "And the better reason that you should come with me, Prue."
"I?" said Prudence, in affright.
"Wherefore not, then? Nay, but you shall suffer no harm through the witchery, sweet mouse; I ask your company no further than the little swing-gate. One minute there, and I shall be back with you. Come, now, for your friend's sake; get your hood and your muffler, dear Prue, and no one shall know either of us from the witch of Endor, so quickly shall we be there and back."
Still she hesitated.
"If your mother were to know, Judith——"