numbers were too few to enable them to withstand the better organization and discipline of the pilgrims. A sharp action ensued, however, which was rendered more alarming to the women and children, and other non-combatants flying for security, by the dismal yells which the savages mingled with their brisk and scattering fire. The Rev. Mr. Whitman, regardless of his profession, was at Uriah's post, loading and firing his old carabine as expeditiously as possible, and exclaiming, as he occasionally rushed forward towards a grim-visaged warrior-"The sword of the Lord and of Gideon." Among the foremost and most impetuous of the Indian warriors was one of remarkable activity, and whose noble, manly figure presented the outlines of a form of singular elegance and grace. The warrior was young, but trod the earth as though he spurned it. He was painted, of course, after the manner of his people; but less hideously and grotesquely than his companions. The regularity of his features, and the light of his eye, presented a countenance worthy of the chisel of Praxitiles. His nose and ears were without jewels; and a broad silver clasp encircled his naked left arm above the elbow; and his blanket, thrown lightly and gracefully over his shoulder, disclosing a portion of his swelling chest, and the whole of his naked, finely-turned, and muscular right arm, was of a richer texture than those worn by the other warriors. His moccasins were curiously inwrought with wampum and the coloured quills

of the porcupine, as likewise was the broad red sash girt about his body, in which were stuck his knife and tomahawk, polished and glittering with exceeding brightness. The chivalrous scalp-lock upon the crown of his shaven head was drawn through a silver ring, and a black plume denoted his authority. He was at every point of danger, or which appeared most assailable, almost in the same instant; and bounded upon his prey with the agility and reckless daring of the hungry tiger. It was Onico, the son of the first Uncas, king of the Mohegans; and this the first time he had trod the war-path as the chief of his tribe. But on the present occasion he led only a small party, and the odds had been so much against him, that the bravest individual daring could not give him the victory. A few were slain on both sides, and several others wounded; but not wishing to sacrifice more of his braves, Onico withdrew them, and with the fleetness of the panther they bounded off over the fields, and, though swiftly pursued, were soon lost in the shadowy recesses of the forest.

The conflagration was soon over-such having been the suddenness of the return of the Puritans on the first alarm, that the torch had only been applied to a few of the most indifferent houses, and those situated in the outskirts. With the retreat of the Indians, the shrieks of the women, and the wailings of the children were hushed, and the incident was speedily found to have been attended

by fewer melancholy results than might at first have been anticipated. When, however, they looked around to ascertain the number of the suf ferers, Deacon Goodspeed was missing. A messenger was despatched to his house for tidings; but on approaching within a few rods of the door, his body was discovered, mangled, and lifeless. A ball in the thigh had brought him to the earth, and a tomahawk, planted deep in his temples, had completed the work of death. The scalp had been torn from his head. Nor was this the extent of the visitation upon the deacon's family. On entering his dwelling, the mutilated and bleeding body of Miss Mehitable was found, not yet quite dead, but the spark of life too nearly extinct to be rekindled. She called for Mr. Whitman, and apparently wished to make a confession of something which lay as a heavy burden on her soul. But the warm current of life was ebbing too rapidly; and before the minister arrived, she had not strength to speak. In the last struggle she faintly exclaimed-" My brother!-Mercy !-Oh!"-and breathed her last.

There had been much in these diversified and melancholy scenes, to divide and distract the attention of the Puritans; but as the shades of night drew on, the settlement having been restored to quiet, and the necessary measures of precaution against another surprise adopted, the civil authorities began to direct their thoughts and attention to the situation of the prisoner, who in the moment of

alarm, had been left the unhappy companion of the stake to which she was securely bound. An attack of the forest warriors, however, had not annulled the laws against witchcraft; and although the hour appointed for the execution had passed, yet it was not deemed proper or expedient to release the offender from confinement. But what was their surprise, on repairing to the place of the intended execution, to find that the victim who, as they supposed, had been left in security, was not there, nor were any traces of her flight discoverable. The old man, her father, had likewise fled; but on sending to Quannipaug, he was discovered in his own house, sitting in his old oaken arm-chair, melancholy and dejected; and, in regard to his daughter, silent. A shake of the head was the only reply he made to the inquiries respecting her; and she was never more seen at Menunkatuck. In process of time, the old gentleman mysteriously disappeared also.

CHAPTER XI.

Wise judges have prescribed that men may not rashly believe the confessions of witches, nor the evidences against them. For the witches themselves are imaginative, and people are credulous, and ready to impute accidents to witchcraft.-BACON.

On the subject of witchcraft, as fanaticism exhausted its rage, the delusion slowly and silently wore away, until in the course of a few short years the members, both of the civil and ecclesiastical courts, together with the people generally, looked back upon what they had done with astonishment. Many written confessions of their errors were made in Menunkatuck and elsewhere, by judges, jurors, principals, and witnesses, and publicly read from the pulpits. The Rev. Mr. Whitman, however, insisted, that "inasmuch as he had acted in these matters with both the word and the fear of God before his eyes, he had nothing whereof to confess or recant." As to the particular case which has furnished the incidents of our tale, most of the testimony was ultimately explained by moral and physical causes, connected with the laws of nature, or the constitution of man. One of the early consequences of the removal of the delusion was, that our pious friend Deacon Goodspeed, until his memory was forgotten, was universally regarded as