alight and burn it up so that not even the witch's bones remain."
"Wait a minute, brother!" exclaimed the distiller. "Your hair is grey, but you are not very intelligent; no ordinary fire will burn a witch. Only the fire of a pipe can do it. I will manage it all right." So saying, he shook some glowing ashes from his pipe on to a bundle of straw, and began to fan the flame.
Despair gave the unfortunate woman courage; she began to implore them in a loud voice.
"Stop a moment, brother! Perhaps we are incurring guilt needlessly. Perhaps she is really no witch!" said the notary. "If the person sitting in there declares herself ready to make the sign of the cross, then she is not a child of the devil."
The proposal was accepted. "Look out, Satan!" continued the notary, speaking at a chink in the door. "If you promise not to move, we will open the door."
The door was opened.
"Cross yourself!" exclaimed the headman, looking round him for a safe place of retreat in case of necessity.
His sister-in-law crossed herself.
"The deuce! It is really you, sister-in-law!"
"What evil spirit dragged you into this hole, friend?" asked the notary.
