Читать книгу Ye Lyttle Salem Maide. A Story of Witchcraft онлайн

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Deliverance, abashed although she knew not why, paused when half-way across the room.

“Look ye, gossips,” cried one, “look at the glint o’ her een.”

To these Puritan dames the extreme beauty which the solitary childish figure acquired in the firelight was diabolical. The reflection of the dancing flames made a radiant nimbus of her fair, disordered hair, and brought out the yellow sheen in the silken gown. Her lips were scarlet, her cheeks glowed, while her soft eyes, wondrously blue and clear, glanced round the circle of faces. Before that innocent and astonished gaze, first one person and then another of the group cowered and shrank, muttering a prayer.

Through the door, swung open by the wind, swept a terrible gust, and with it passed in something soft, black, fluttering, which circled three times around the room, each time drawing nearer to Deliverance, until at last it dropped and fastened itself to her hair.

Shrieking, the women broke from each other, and ran from the room, all save Goodwife Higgins, who clapped her apron over her head, and fell to uttering loud groans.