The setting sun shed his last golden rays upon this little party, who, absorbed in their present occupation, took no heed of the approach of night, or the glory in which the day went down, when the sound of a horse, approaching at a good round trot, invading the silence of the hour, caused the reader to make a sudden stop, and the listeners to raise their heads in wonder. Nor was their p. 266wonder diminished when a horseman dashed up to the porch, and abruptly checking his steed, inquired where one John Podgers dwelt. p. 266 ‘Here!’ cried a dozen voices, while a dozen hands pointed out sturdy John, still basking in the terrors of the pamphlet. The rider, giving his bridle to one of those who surrounded him, dismounted, and approached John, hat in hand, but with great haste. ‘Whence come ye?’ said John. ‘From Kingston, master.’ ‘And wherefore?’ ‘On most pressing business.’ ‘Of what nature?’ ‘Witchcraft.’ Witchcraft! Everybody looked aghast at the breathless messenger, and the breathless messenger looked equally aghast at everybody—except Will Marks, who, finding himself unobserved, not only squeezed the young lady again, but kissed her twice. Surely he must have been bewitched himself, or he never could have done it—and the young lady too, or she never would have let him. ‘Witchcraft!’ cried Will, drowning the sound of his last kiss, which was rather a loud one. The messenger turned towards him, and with a frown repeated the word more solemnly than before; then told his errand, which was, in brief, that the people of Kingston had been greatly terrified for some nights past by hideous revels, held by witches beneath the gibbet within a mile of the town, and related and deposed to by chance wayfarers who had passed within ear-shot of the spot; that the sound of their voices in their wild orgies had been plainly heard by many persons; that three old women laboured under strong suspicion, and that precedents had been consulted and solemn council had, and it was found that to identify the
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