The village was soon alive with the news.  The sexton forgot the solemnity of the Sabbath, and the bell acted as if it was crazy, tumbling heels over head at such a rate, and with such a clamor, that a good many thought there was a fire, and, rushing out from every quarter, instantly caught the great news with which the air was ablaze.

A few of the young men who had come back went even further in their demonstrations.  They got a small cannon in readiness, and without waiting for the going down of the sun, began firing rapidly, upon which the Rev. Mr. Stoker sallied forth to put a stop to this violation of the Sabbath.  But in the mean time it was heard on all the hills, far and near.  Some said they were firing in the hope of raising the corpse; but many who heard the bells ringing their crazy peals guessed what had happened.  Before night the parties were all in, one detachment bearing the body of the bob-tailed catamount swung over a pole, like the mighty cluster of grapes from Eshcol, and another conveying with wise precaution that monstrous snapping-turtle which those of our friends who wish to see will find among the specimens marked Chelydra, Serpentine in the great collection at Cantabridge.

CHAPTER XI.

Vexed with A devil.

It was necessary at once to summon a physician to advise as to the treatment of Myrtle, who had received a shock, bodily and mental, not lightly to be got rid of, and very probably to be followed by serious and varied disturbances.  Her very tranquillity was suspicious, for there must be something of exhaustion in it, and the reaction must come sooner or later.

Old Dr. Lemuel Hurlbut, at the age of ninety-two, very deaf, very nearly blind, very feeble, liable to odd lapses of memory, was yet a wise counsellor in doubtful and difficult cases, and on rare occasions was still called upon to exercise his ancient skill.  Here was a case in which a few words from him might soothe the patient and give confidence to all who were interested in her.  Miss Silence Withers went herself to see him.

“Miss Withers, father, wants to talk with you about her niece, Miss Hazard,” said Dr. Fordyce Hurlbut.

“Miss Withers, Miss Withers?—­Oh, Silence Withers,—­lives up at The Poplars.  How’s the Deacon, Miss Withers?” [Ob. 1810.]

“My grandfather is not living, Dr. Hurlbut,” she screamed into his ear.

“Dead, is he?  Well, it isn’t long since he was with us; and they come and go,—­they come and go.  I remember his father, Major Gideon Withers.  He had a great red feather on training-days,—­that was what made me remember him.  Who did you say was sick and wanted to see me, Fordyce?”

“Myrtle Hazard, father,—­she has had a narrow escape from drowning, and it has left her in a rather nervous state.  They would like to have you go up to The Poplars and take a look at her.  You remember Myrtle Hazard?  She is the great-granddaughter of your old friend the Deacon.”