"It was on a Saturday," said the good old woman, "when we were assembled in a back room, the same wherein my late husband had breathed his last, myself, my daughter, her lover, and two of my neighbours being present; at eleven o'clock we began to sing, as Volkert had ordered us, penetential hymns and psalms 'till the clock struck twelve, when we left off singing and Volkert entered the room, clad in a white garment, barefoot, and with a pale and disordered countenance; under his arm he carried a black carpet, a naked sword, and a crucifix, and in each hand a lighted taper. As soon as he entered the room, he beckoned us to rise, and made a sign not to utter a word; then he placed a table in the middle of the room, covered it with the black carpet, and put the crucifix and the tapers upon it, holding the sword in his hand: This done, he took out of his pocket a bottle with consecrated water, and sprinkled us and the floor with it.—After we had pulled off our shoes and"stockings,
