Page:Salem - a tale of the seventeenth century (IA taleseventeenth00derbrich).pdf/85

 By this time the storm was down upon them in all its awful fury: great trees creaked and groaned beneath the biting blasts of the wind; huge branches, torn off, obstructed their way; hail and rain smote their uncovered heads and wet their shivering bodies to the skin; the rattling thunder leaped from hill to hill, and sheets of blue, fiery lightning blazed around them; but they never wavered, never swerved from their direct way.

Plunging on in the same blind instinct which enables the dull ox to find his owner's crib, or the ravenous beast of prey to reach its lair, they made their unseen way to the village; and when, half an hour later, the Rev. Mr. Parris returned from the prayer-meeting which he had convened for the benefit of "the afflicted children," John was ready at his post to take his master's horse, and Tituba opened the door for him as usual.

Whether the demon rites of the avowed Pagan or the prayers of the professing Christian were more acceptable to the dread powers to which they were severally addressed is a question which Time may indeed ask, but which Eternity alone can answer.