great start, and look back. A young woman, barefooted, and with a
coarse canvas frock about her, and her long hair hanging loose like a
periwig, and sprinkled with ashes, came walking up the south aisle.
Just as she got near Uncle Rawson's seat she stopped, and turning round
towards the four corners of the house, cried out: "Woe to the
persecutors! Woe to them who for a pretence make long prayers! Humble
yourselves, for this is the day of the Lord's power, and I am sent as a
sign among you!" As she looked towards me I knew her to be the Quaker
maiden, Margaret Brewster. "Where is the constable?" asked Mr.
Richardson. "Let the woman be taken out." Thereupon the whole
congregation arose, and there was a great uproar, men and women climbing
the seats, and many crying out, some one thing and some another. In the
midst of the noise, Mr. Sewall, getting up on a bench, begged the people
to be quiet, and let the constable lead out the poor deluded creature.
Mr. Richardson spake to the same effect, and, the tumult a little
subsiding, I saw them taking the young woman out of the door; and, as
many followed her, I went out also, with my brother, to see what became
of her.

We found her in the middle of a great crowd of angry people, who
reproached her for her wickedness in disturbing the worship on the
Lord's day, calling her all manner of foul names, and threatening her
with the stocks and the whipping-post. The poor creature stood still
and quiet; she was deathly pale, and her wild hair and sackcloth frock
gave her a very strange and pitiable look. The constable was about to
take her in charge until the morrow, when Robert Pike came forward, and
said he would answer for her appearance at the court the next day, and
besought the people to let her go quietly to her home, which, after some
parley, was agreed to. Robert then went up to her, and taking her hand,
asked her to go with him. She looked up, and being greatly touched by