_Olive_ (_laughing_). 'Twas naught but Ann's own shadow that her
fear gave a voice and a touch to. Say naught to frighten Ann,
father; she is the most timorous maid in Salem Village now.

_Giles._ There is some wisdom in fear nowadays. You make too light
of it, lass.

_Olive_ (_laughing_). Nay, father, I'll turn to and hang up my own
shadow in the chimbly-place for a witch, an you say so.

_Giles._ This be no subject for jest. Said you the black beast
spoke to you, Ann?

_Ann._ I know not. Once I thought I heard Olive calling. I know not
what I heard.

_Giles._ You'd best have stayed at home. Where is your mother,
Olive?

_Olive._ She has gone to Goodwife Bishop's with a basket of eggs.

_Giles._ Gone three miles to Goodwife Bishop's this time of night?
Is the woman gone out of her senses?

_Olive._ She is not afraid.

_Giles._ I'll warrant she is not afraid. So much the worse for her.
Mayhap she's gone riding on a broomstick herself. How is the cat?