“I shall not argue the point with you now, sir,” replied Nowell; angrily.  “Mistress Nutter will be fairly tried, and if I fail in my proofs against her, she will be acquitted.  But I have little fear of such a result,” he added, with a sinister smile.

“You are confident, sir, because you know there would be every disposition to find her guilty,” replied Richard.  “She will not be fairly tried.  All the prejudices of ignorance and superstition, heightened by the published opinions of the King, will be arrayed against her.  Were she as free from crime, or thought of crime, as the new-born babe, once charged with the horrible and inexplicable offence of witchcraft, she would scarce escape.  You go determined to destroy her.”

“I will not deny it,” said Roger Newell, “and I am satisfied that I shall render good service to society by freeing it from so vile a member.  So abhorrent is the crime of witchcraft, that were my own son suspected, I would be the first to deliver him to justice.  Like a noxious and poisonous plant, the offence has taken deep root in this country, and is spreading its baneful influence around, so that, if it be not extirpated, it may spring up anew, and cause incalculable mischief.  But it shall now be effectually checked.  Of the families I have mentioned, not one shall escape; and if Mistress Nutter herself had a daughter, she should be brought to judgment.  In such cases, children must suffer for the sins of the parents.”

“You have no regard, then, for their innocence?” said Richard, who felt as if a weight of calamity was crushing him down.

“Their innocence must be proved at the proper tribunal,” rejoined Nowell.  “It is not for me to judge them.”

“But you do judge them,” cried Richard, sharply.  “In making the charge, you know that you pronounce the sentence of condemnation as well.  This is why the humane man—­why the just—­would hesitate to bring an accusation even where he suspected guilt—­but where suspicion could not possibly attach, he would never suffer himself, however urged on by feelings of animosity, to injure the innocent.”

“You ascribe most unworthy motives to me, young sir,” rejoined Nowell, sternly.  “I am influenced only by a desire to see justice administered, and I shall not swerve from my duty, because my humanity may be called in question by a love-sick boy.  I understand why you plead thus warmly for these infamous persons.  You are enthralled by the beauty of the young witch, Alizon Device.  I noted how you were struck by her yesterday—­and I heard what Sir Thomas Metcalfe said on the subject.  But take heed what you do.  You may jeopardise both soul and body in the indulgence of this fatal passion.  Witchcraft is exercised in many ways.  Its professors have not only power to maim and to kill, and to do other active mischief, but to ensnare the affections and endanger the souls of their victims, by enticing them to unhallowed love.  Alizon Device is comely to view, no doubt, but who shall say whence her beauty is derived?  Hell may have arrayed her in its fatal charms.  Sin is beautiful, but all-destructive.  And the time will come when you may thank me for delivering you from the snares of this seductive siren.”  Richard uttered an angry exclamation.