The news of Miss Lyford's arrest, and the disclosure of her real name, produced a deep sensation in the community. The victims of this delusion had been hitherto taken from the lower walks of life, and this first attack upon the high places of society, while it shocked the feelings of many, served to reconcile the populace to the action of the courts, as it indicated that no influence of wealth or standing would be allowed to protect the guilty from punishment. Such was the state of the public mind, that except among Mary's immediate friends, no effort was made, or contemplated, for her deliverance. The sin of witchcraft was of too deep a dye to be forgiven; and the common doctrine was, that religion itself must turn away from such deadly foes to God and man. When the warrant was served, she was immediately removed from her friends, and placed in the care of an officer, who was directed to furnish an upper room in his house for her reception, and to guard her with ceaseless vigilance. There was little occasion for this warning, for the officer, whose name was Harris, would have thought himself bound over to perdition, had he suffered any prisoner in charge for a crime so enormous, to escape. All access to Miss Lyford was forbidden, except to her brother and Mr. and Mrs. Ellerson, who, assured of her innocence, did not scruple to express to the officer the utmost indignation and horror, at the violence thus done to one of their own family.

It was scarcely possible to realize the change which the period of a single month had produced. The whole affair of Mary's arrest and confinement seemed so like a dream, that they could hardly persuade themselves of its reality. But in a short time they saw the full extent of her danger, and had little doubt her death would be demanded by the populace, and that the court, whatever might be its wishes, would not dare to refuse the victim. The kind of evidence which was then current and considered valid, was so completely interwoven with every feature of her case, that her guilt, in the public view, was already proved. In these circumstances, Mr. Ellerson and his lady forbore to excite the populace, by public denunciation; but in their own circle of high respectability and influence, they were loud in their demands for her release, and insisted that some sinister motive had betrayed her into the toils of the accuser.

Lyford had accompanied his sister to the jailer's room, where he provided every convenience which the rough and superstitious keeper would allow. For several days before her arrest, Mary had been prepared for the worst; and she calmly resigned herself into the hands of the law, to await an issue, which she from the first apprehended would be fatal. There was no visible emotion in her countenance, but a deep melancholy had fallen upon those lovely features, which in their mild and beautiful, yet pensive and solemn aspect, would have excited in any heart, not steeled by fanaticism, the liveliest interest and sympathy. No ray of light could penetrate the cloud that shaded her earthly hopes, and her spirit was now struggling to free itself from worldly ties, and to move in a calmer region, beyond this stormy and distracted world.

The next day after Mary's arrest, Lyford returned to Boston, to communicate the tidings to Walter, and prevent any rash or violent measure, to which his vehement temper might prompt him. No language can describe his feelings, when the facts were disclosed by Lyford; but the strong excitement of his mind was soon subdued by the calm remonstrances of his friend, who assured him that every thing depended on coolness and deliberation. Walter immediately laid upon himself the most severe restraints, and while he vowed to effect her deliverance, or perish in the attempt, he soon became so entirely the master of his own feelings, that no perceptible change was visible in his deportment. His first impulse was to proceed directly to Salem; but Lyford convinced him that such a step would be worse than useless, as he would not be permitted to see Mary, and it might throw serious obstacles in the way of her escape. It was therefore concluded he should remain at home, and that no interview with Mary should be attempted, but through the medium of her brother.

The trial of Miss Lyford took place about the middle of July. Several witnesses were examined, whose testimony was considered conclusive of her guilt. Clarissa, Mr. Ellerson's servant, testified to the strange influence she exerted over her, and even in court took care to exhibit one of those remarkable fits of agitation and nervous excitement, which were universally satisfactory to the judges. Another witness declared she had seen Miss Lyford walking alone in the neighborhood of the forest, and that mysterious voices were heard in the woods, and unearthly music, and she remembered and repeated some lines, which intimated that she had consented to become one of a band of spirits, on account of which, she was soon to be crowned queen of a new kingdom, and to receive an untold amount of riches. Other testimony of a similar character was produced, but Trellison took care not to appear in the case; he did not choose to involve himself in unnecessary difficulties, and was probably aware that revenge for his known disappointment might be assigned as a motive for his testimony, and thus defeat the great object he had in view.

Such was the nature and amount of the evidence, it was scarcely possible to expect an acquittal. The examination was indeed prolonged, beyond the usual time, perhaps with a view to give some notion of the lenity of the court; but when the case was given to the jury, they scarcely hesitated, and when the verdict was demanded, it was with a bolder voice than usual, that the foreman pronounced the fatal word, "Guilty!" There was a deep solemnity and silence in the thronged court room, though little sympathy was manifested for the unoffending and beautiful maiden, whose fate was now so certain. The public frenzy had sealed the fountains of compassion, and the judge soon after pronounced sentence of death, to be executed on the twentieth of the following August.

We have not yet spoken of the demeanor of Miss Lyford, during this fearful period. Suffice it to say, it was calm and dignified, worthy her illustrious descent, and adorned by every christian virtue. Her confidence was not in man; and though her ties to life were of the strongest character, she could contemplate death without dismay. The shock attending the trial and sentence was indeed great, but the gospel was present to her aid with its well-springs of consolation, its life of immortality, and 'its exceeding weight' of future and eternal glory. Her eye of faith looked beyond the tempests of that awful night, whose fearful horrors thickened over her, and beheld the rising day of celestial glory.

The friends of Mary now sought from Gov. Phipps, through the kind offices of his lady, the executive clemency: but the faint hope they entertained of a pardon, soon died away in total despair. Sir William absolutely refused to interpose, and his purpose was strengthened by his knowledge of her name and descent, which were more odious to him, if possible, than her imputed witchcraft. But when it came to be announced that the young lady hitherto known as Miss Graham, was a relative of the venerated Goffe, a feeling of sympathy and pity was strongly and generally manifested; but its public exhibition was soon hushed by a sense of personal danger; every one was too deeply concerned for himself, to bestow much solicitude upon the fate of others.

Other methods were now adopted, and high rewards were offered in private, to bold and adventurous men, if they would procure her escape from prison: but no one could be found of sufficient courage to make the effort. Walter then attempted to bribe the jailer; but that resolute officer would not be tampered with. He was too much concerned for his own soul, he said, to suffer a witch to escape. He redoubled his vigilance; other sentinels were also placed on guard, and no access to Miss Lyford was permitted, except an occasional visit from James, who now spent all his time at Salem; and even this boon was with great difficulty obtained.

On these occasions, James bore to his sister the most affecting memorials of Walter's continued love, and assured her of his belief that some way of escape would yet open, and that all his time and thoughts were employed in devising plans for her deliverance. Mary, however, placed little reliance on such deceitful grounds of hope, and remitted nothing of her endeavors to prepare for the awful scene that awaited her. It was indeed grateful to see such proofs of Walter's affection, in the midst of all the obloquy which had clouded her name, and made her the reproach and scorn of the community; but her ties to earth were loosening, the glorious visions of the heavenly rest absorbed her mind, and she looked beyond the troubled stream she must soon cross, to a land of undecaying beauty and eternal repose.

All the efforts of James and Walter were warmly seconded by the Ellersons; and in their frequent conversations, every suggestion that prudence could make, was carefully balanced and weighed. But it was reserved for the fertile invention of Strale, to devise the only expedient which seemed to offer the least chance of success; and though this was confessedly romantic and extremely difficult to manage, it was resolved to make the trial.

Near the house of Mr. Harris, who had charge of Miss Lyford, there was a small cottage, occupied by a poor but honest laborer, named William Somers. This man was an ardent admirer of Gen. Goffe, and had once seen and conversed with him at his retreat in Hadley. Moreover, he was a sturdy Puritan, and in high reputation for honesty and piety: no one ever questioned his integrity, and he was the last person to be suspected of any plot against the peace of the community, Somers was just the man for the present emergency; and as soon as Miss Lyford's name was publicly disclosed, he went to Mr. Ellerson, and volunteered his services in any proper measures for her release, assuring him he might rely on his fidelity. There was little need of this assurance, for Somers was never known to break his word or slight his engagements. The location of Somers' cottage was very favorable, and in fact essential to the success of the plan, as no other house near that of Harris could possibly be obtained. His offer of assistance was therefore gratefully accepted, and he was at once admitted to the councils of Mary's friends. The progress of our narrative will develope the means that were employed, and the consequences that followed.

The policy now to be adopted, required that Walter should no longer keep up his relations to Miss Lyford, and that he should so far acquiesce in the public feeling, as to offer no vindication, or even suggest a wish in her behalf. It was no easy task to pursue this line of conduct; but as it did not require a positive disavowal of his engagement, he felt justified in assuming such a degree of indifference to her fate, as might be necessary for the successful prosecution of his designs.

Among Mary's friends in Boston, there were very few who did not follow the fashion of the world, in deserting the unfortunate, and leaving them to struggle alone in their wretchedness, without sympathy or consolation. Miss Hallam, Mary's earliest and most intimate friend, was one of the first to forsake her. In fact, this young lady was never pleased with the attentions which were so liberally bestowed on Miss Lyford, and it was more than suspected that her own attachment to Strale, reconciled her to the impending fate of her friend. She saw, with scarcely disguised pleasure, that Walter seemed to regard Mary with little interest, and as he was now a frequent visiter at her father's, she began to hope his affections were already enlisted in her behalf. There were some, however, whose feelings and conduct were far different. Among these, Miss Elliott was deeply affected at the situation of her friend, and did not hesitate to condemn the proceedings, as in the highest degree cruel and unjust. She made repeated visits to Mr. Willard, in the hope that he might do something in her behalf; and the benevolent clergyman employed all the power he possessed in her favor. She made the same application to Cotton Mather, but the stern fanaticism of this man was proof against all her entreaties. He declared he had no malice, and nothing but kindness towards Miss Lyford in his heart; but he solemnly believed in the allegations against her, and that God and man required the sacrifice. The proof he said was clear, and an exception in her favor would be cruelty to the community and treachery to his divine Master. All he could do was to pray, that notwithstanding her sorceries, she might, if possible, be forgiven, and he would not refuse her the tribute of a tear. Such were the feelings of this remarkable man, and such the power of superstition over his vigorous but ill governed mind. He was not naturally cruel, but in whatever devious course his perverted sense of duty impelled him, no consideration of reason or humanity could bring him back.

Mean-while the days glided on, and the period was at hand when the fatal sentence of the law was to be executed. The nineteenth of August had been assigned for the death of Burroughs and three of his associates, who had been condemned on the same grounds. One female also had been selected, to complete the sacrifice. For these unhappy individuals there was no hope of escape; the public voice had condemned them, as well as the iniquitous court before which they were tried; and they prepared, with christian resignation, for the doom which could not be averted. Miss Lyford's sentence had been assigned one day later, as the case was deemed one of solemn and peculiar interest; and moreover it was the policy of the court to impress the public mind with the enormity of the crime of witchcraft, by repeating the tragedy in its most awful and startling forms. The only hope that remained for Mary, was in those secret movements of her friends, which, in their complicated and delicate machinery, might be frustrated by the severance of a single cord. Her brother had acquainted her with the outlines of the plan, but she had little faith in a prospect which seemed so visionary and hopeless. Neither had Lyford any great confidence in its success, and every day had meditated some new expedient to accomplish her deliverance—but it was all in vain. No other hope appeared; and when the eighteenth of August had arrived, Mary was still in the custody of Harris, and that vigilant officer and his three assistants, were the sleepless sentinels at their post of dishonor and shame.