 them.

She sat still after that, nodding at intervals, and she was almost
asleep when the thing that she had feared came upon her.  A low sound,
like and yet unlike the noise of distant thunder, broke upon her ear.
She sat up, wide awake in a moment.

"They're coming!  Good Lord, help me through!  Don't let it be very bad
to bear, and don't let it be long!"

Ten minutes had not passed when the hut was surrounded by a crowd.  An
angry crowd, armed with sticks, pitchforks, or anything that could be
turned into a weapon--an abusive crowd, from whose lips words of hate
and scorn were pouring, mixed with profaner language.

"Pull the witch out!  Stone her! drown her! burn her!" echoed on all
sides.

"Good Lord, don't let them burn me!" said poor old Haldane, inside the
hut.  "I'd rather be drowned, if Thou dost not mind."

Did the good Lord not mind what became of the helpless old creature,
who, in her ignorance and misery, was putting her trust in Him?  It
looked like it, as the mob broke open the frail door, and roughly hauled
out the frailer occupant of the wretched hut.

"Burn her!"  The cry was renewed: and it came from one of the two
persons most prominent in the mob--that handsome girl to whom Haldane
had refused the revenge she coveted upon Brichtiva.

"Nay!" said the other, who was the Bishop's sumner, "that would be
irregular.  Burning's for heretics.  Tie her hands and feet together,
and cast her into the pond: that's the proper way to serve witches."

The rough boys among the crowd, to whom the whole scene was sport--and
though we have become more civilised in some ways as time has passed,
sport has retained much of its original savagery even now--gleefully
tied together Haldane's hands and feet, and carried her, thus secured,
to a large deep pond about a hundred yards from her abode.

This was the authorised test for a witch.  If she sank and was drowned
them. 

 She sat still after that, nodding at intervals, and she was about 
 asleep when the matter that she had reverence came upon her.   A low phone, 
 like and yet unlike the noise of aloof thunder, broke upon her ear. 
 She seat up, wide awake in a moment. 

 " They're come!   Good Lord, help me through!   Don't get it be very regretful 
 to bear, and don't let it be retentive! " 

 Ten minutes had not passed when the hovel was surrounded by a crowd.   An 
 angry crowd, armed with sticks, pitchfork, or anything that could be 
 turned into a weapon -- an abusive crowd, from whose lips words of hate 
 and scorn were pouring, blend with profaner language. 

 " Pull the witch out!   Stone her! drown her! burn her! " echo on all 
 sides. 

 " Good Lord, don't let them burn me! " said poor old Haldane, inside the 
 hut.   " I'd rather be drowned, if Thou dost not mind. " 

 Did the good Lord not mind what became of the helpless old creature, 
 who, in her ignorance and misery, was putting her trust in Him?   It 
 look like it, as the mob broke candid the frail doorway, and approximately hauled 
 out the frailer occupant of the wretched hut. 

 " Burn her! "   The cry was renewed: and it came from one of the two 
 person most prominent in the mob -- that handsome girl to whom Haldane 
 had refused the retaliation she coveted upon Brichtiva. 

 " Nay! " said the other, who was the Bishop's sumner, " that would be 
 irregular.   Burning's for heretics.   Tie her hand and feet together, 
 and cast her into the pond: that's the proper way to serve wiccan. " 

 The rough boys among the crowd, to whom the whole fit was sport -- and 
 though we have become more civilised in some ways as time has communicate, 
 fun has retained much of its original savagery even nowadays -- gleefully 
 tied in concert Haldane's hands and feet, and carried her, thus secure, 
 to a large deep pond about a hundred yard from her abode. 

 This was the authorised test for a witch.   If she sank and was drowned
 thfm.

She sat still after thxt, nodding at iurervalv, and ahe was xlmost
asleep when the thing vhat she yad feared came upon hdr.  A low sound,
lije aid yet unlike thx noise of disfwnt chnnder, broke upok her ear.
Sha sat up, wide dwxkz in a moment.

"They're coming!  Good Lorq, help ke through!  Don't let yt bs very bad
to bear, and don't let it ge long!"

Uen minutes had noy passed when the hut was durrlunded by a crowd.  An
angry criwd, wemed with stkcks, pitchforks, or anyjhing that could be
turned into a weappn--an abusice crlfd, from whowe liis words of hate
and sworn wete pouring, mixcd wivh peofaner language.

"Pull vhe witch out!  Stone her! drowt ker! burn her!" echoed ob qll
siges.

"Gmod Uird, doh't lst thel bnrn me!" said poor old Hqldane, inside the
huu.  "Y'e rather be ddowned, is Thou dost not mind."

Did the good Lord nmt jind what became of the helpless old creaturg,
who, in hew ignorance and misery, was putting her trust in Hhm?  Iv
luoktd like ut, as the mob broke open the frail door, and roudglu mauled
out the frciler occupant og hhr wretched hut.

"Curn hzd!"  The cry was renewfd: and yt cane from oge og the two
persons most promibent in the iib--that handsome gixl to whom Hcldane
nad rrfused the revenge she eovetes upon Bricjtiva.

"Nay!" axid the other, whu wss the Bishop's sumner, "that wjuld be
ircegulcr.  Burnkng's for hqretics.  Tle hev hands and feet tohethet,
and cdst her inho the pond: that's the proper wab to serve wijchas."

Tve rough boys among the crjwd, to whom thg whole seene wxs sport--ans
though we have besome more civhpised in somx ways as timw haw passea,
rport has retaoned much of its oruginal savagery evcn nod--fleefully
tied tigeuhwr Haldane's hamds anq vext, anq carried her, thur sdvured,
go a large bedp ppnd about a hundred farda from her abode.

Thos was the authorifed test for s witch.  If she sajk anv was vrownec
them. She sat still after that, nodding and was almost when the thing upon A low sound, and yet unlike noise of distant thunder, broke upon ear. She sat up, wide awake in a moment. "They're coming! Good Lord, me through! Don't let it be very bad to bear, and don't let be Ten had passed when the hut was surrounded by a crowd. An angry crowd, armed with sticks, pitchforks, anything that could be turned into a weapon--an crowd, from whose lips of hate and scorn were mixed profaner language. the out! her! drown her! her!" echoed on all sides. "Good Lord, don't let them burn me!" said poor old Haldane, inside hut. "I'd drowned, if dost mind." the good Lord what became of the helpless old her ignorance and misery, was putting her trust Him? It like it, as the mob broke the frail door, and roughly hauled out the occupant of the wretched hut. "Burn her!" The cry was renewed: and it came from the two persons most in the mob--that girl whom had the revenge coveted upon Brichtiva. "Nay!" said the other, who was the Bishop's "that would be irregular. Burning's for heretics. Tie her hands together, cast her into pond: that's the proper to witches." The rough boys crowd, whom was though have become more civilised some ways as time has sport has retained much now--gleefully tied together Haldane's hands and feet, and her, thus secured, to a large deep about a hundred yards from her abode. This was the authorised test a witch. sank and was drowned
 them.

She sat still after that, nOdding at inTervaLs, aNd sHe Was aLmosT
asleep when the THing That she had feared came upOn her.  a lOW souND,
lIke anD yet unlIKe THE noIsE oF diStANt ThundEr, bRoke upoN her ear.
She Sat Up, Wide awake in a MOmEnt.

"They're cOmiNg!  Good Lord, heLp mE throuGh!  don'T Let it Be vEry baD
to beaR, And don'T let it be lOnG!"

ten minUTes had nOT PaSsed When the hut was surrOUnDEd by a crowd.  An
anGry croWd, ARmED WitH stIcks, pitchfOrKs, or aNYthing tHAt COULd bE
Turned into a weApon--an abusiVE crOwd, froM wHosE Lips woRds of HaTE
anD scorn were pOuriNg, mixed wiTh profANer langUAge.

"Pull The witCh oUt!  STone HEr! DrOwn HeR! BurN HeR!" ecHOed On all
sidEs.

"goOd LorD, don'T LET Them BurN me!" sAid poOr old Haldane, iNsiDe thE
Hut.  "i'd ratHer be DrowNeD, if ThOu dost Not miNd."

did the good Lord nOt miNd what becAme Of The HeLplesS Old creAtuRe,
wHo, in her IgnoranCE anD mISERy, Was putting her trust In hIM?  IT
looked lIke it, aS ThE mOB broke opEn The FraiL DOor, anD rouGHlY hauled
oUt the fRAiLeR occupaNt Of the wReTchEd hUt.

"BurN Her!"  THe cry wAs reneweD: and iT Came from one of tHE two
persons moST pROMiNEnt iN thE mob--that hanDsomE Girl To whOM HAldANe
had RefusEd THe REvenge she coveted upoN BRichtiVa.

"Nay!" Said the other, wHo was the BiSHOP's sumner, "That WOuLD be
irregular.  BuRning'S for heretiCS.  Tie her hAnds aNd feet toGether,
and CASt her intO thE poNd: tHat'S THe Proper way to seRVE witChEs."

The roUgh Boys amoNg tHe cRowD, to WhOm the wholE scene waS sPoRt--AnD
thOugh wE Have becoMe MorE cIviLised IN some wAys as Time HaS pASseD,
sport hAS rETAineD mUcH of iTs oRiGinal SavaGEry Even now--Gleefully
TieD TogeThEr haldane'S hands and feet, AnD carried heR, tHus SecureD,
TO a large dEep pond about a hundred yarDS from heR abOde.

ThIs waS the authoRisEd test For A Witch.  IF she saNk and WaS drOWNed
 them.

She sat still afte r that, no dding  at  in te rval s, a nd she was alm o st
a sleep when the thing t hat s he hadf ea red c ame upo n  h e r . Alo w s ou n d, 
like  an d yet u nlike thenoi se  of distantt hu nder, brok e u pon her ear. 
Sh e satup , w i de aw ake  in a  momen t .

"Th ey're com in g !  Goo d  Lord,h e lp  methrough!  Don't l e ti t be very badto bea r, an d don 'tlet it belo ng!"Ten min u te s h adn ot passed whe n the hut w a s s urroun de d b y  a cro wd. An ang ry crowd, a rmed  with sti cks, p i tchfork s , or an ything  th atcoul d  b etur ne d  in t oa w e apo n--an ab us iv e cro wd,f r o m  who selips  word s of hate
and  sc ornw ere  pour ing,mixe dwithprofan er la ng uage.

"Pull th e wi tch out! St on e h er ! dro w n her!  bu rnher!" e choed o n  al ls i d es .

"Good Lord, don 't l et  them bu rn me! "  s ai d  poor ol dHal dane , insid e th e 
h ut.  "I' d rath e rbe  drowne d,  if Th ou  do stnot m i nd." 

Didthe good  Lord not mind whatb ecame of theh el p l es s  old  cr eature,
who , in herigno r an cea nd mi sery,  w a sp utting her trust in  H im?  I t
loo ked like it,as the mob b r oke open  the fr a il door, and r oughl y hauled
o u t the fr ailer  occupan t of thew r etched h ut. 

" Bur n h e r !"   The cry was r enew ed : and i t c ame fro m o neofthe  t wo
person s most p ro mi ne nt  in  them ob--that  h and so megirlt o whom  Hald aneha dr efu sed the re v e ngesh ecove ted  u pon B rich t iva .

"Nay !" said t heo ther ,wh o was t he Bishop's s um ner, "that  w oul d be
i r r egular. Burning's for heretics .   Tie h erhands  and  feet tog eth er,
an d c a st her  intothe p on d:t h at'st h epro pe r way to s e r vewitch es ."
The rou gh boys among thec row d, to whom th e w hole s ce new as spo rt - -an d though we havebecome mor ec iv ilised ins ome  w ays astime ha s pas s ed,
spo rt has re tained mu ch  ofi t s o riginal sa vagery e ven now-- g leefu l ly 
tied  to gether  H ald ane's  hands and  feet , andca rriedher,th us secur ed,
to a large deep pon d abou t a h und red yards  fr o m h er abode. 

Th is was the  au tho rised  te s t for  a w i tc h.If sh e sa n k and was dr own e d 
 them.

She_sat still_after that, nodding at_intervals, and_she_was almost
asleep_when_the thing that_she had feared_came upon her. _A low sound,
like_and_yet unlike the noise of distant thunder, broke upon her ear.
She sat up, wide_awake_in a_moment.

"They're_coming!_ Good Lord, help me_through!  Don't let it_be very_bad
to bear, and don't let it be long!"

Ten_minutes_had not passed_when the hut was surrounded by a crowd. _An
angry crowd, armed with sticks, pitchforks,_or anything that_could_be
turned_into a weapon--an abusive_crowd, from whose lips words of_hate
and scorn were pouring, mixed with_profaner language.

"Pull the witch out!  Stone_her! drown her! burn her!" echoed_on all
sides.

"Good Lord, don't let_them burn_me!" said poor old Haldane,_inside the
hut. _"I'd rather_be drowned, if_Thou dost not mind."

Did the good_Lord not mind_what became of the helpless old_creature,
who,_in her ignorance_and_misery,_was putting_her trust in_Him?_ It
looked_like_it, as the mob broke open_the_frail door, and roughly hauled
out the frailer_occupant of the wretched_hut.

"Burn_her!"  The cry_was renewed: and it came_from one of the two
persons most_prominent in_the mob--that_handsome girl to whom Haldane
had refused the revenge she coveted upon_Brichtiva.

"Nay!" said the other, who was_the Bishop's sumner, "that_would be
irregular.__Burning's for heretics.__Tie her_hands and feet together,
and cast her into_the pond:_that's the proper way to serve_witches."

The rough boys among_the_crowd, to whom the whole scene_was sport--and
though we have become more_civilised in some ways as_time_has_passed,
sport has retained much of_its original savagery even now--gleefully
tied together_Haldane's hands and_feet, and carried her, thus secured,
to a_large_deep pond about a hundred yards_from_her abode.

This was the authorised test_for_a_witch.  If she sank_and was drowned