In the account given, in the First Part, of the population of Salem Village and the contiguous farms, her husband, John Procter, was introduced to our acquaintance.  From what we then saw of him, we are well assured that he would not shrink from the protection and defence of his wife.  He accompanied her from her arrest to her arraignment, and stood by her side, a strong, brave, and resolute guardian, trying to support her under the terrible trials of her situation, and ready to comfort and aid her to the extent of his power, disregardful of all consequences to himself.  The examination proceeded:—­

“Elizabeth Procter, you understand whereof you are charged; viz., to be guilty of sundry acts of witchcraft.  What say you to it?  Speak the truth; and so you that are afflicted, you must speak the truth, as you will answer it before God another day.  Mary Walcot, doth this woman hurt you?—­I never saw her so as to be hurt by her.

     “Mercy Lewis, does she hurt you?

     “(Her mouth was stopped.)

     “Ann Putnam, does she hurt you?

     “(She could not speak.)

     “Abigail Williams, does she hurt you?

     “(Her hand was thrust in her own mouth.)

     “John, does she hurt you?—­This is the woman that came in
     her shift, and choked me.

     “Did she ever bring the book?—­Yes, sir.

     “What to do?—­To write.

     “What? this woman?—­Yes, sir.

     “Are you sure of it?—­Yes, sir.

     “(Again Abigail Williams and Ann Putnam were spoke to by the
     Court; but neither of them could make any answer, by reason
     of dumbness or other fits.)

     “What do you say, Goody Procter, to these things?—­I take
     God in heaven to be my witness, that I know nothing of it,
     no more than the child unborn.

     “Ann Putnam, doth this woman hurt you?—­Yes, sir:  a great
     many times.

     “(Then the accused looked upon them, and they fell into
     fits.)

     “She does not bring the book to you, does she?—­Yes, sir,
     often; and saith she hath made her maid set her hand to it.

     “Abigail Williams, does this woman hurt you?—­Yes, sir,
     often.

     “Does she bring the book to you?—­Yes.

     “What would she have you do with it?—­To write in it, and I
     shall be well.”

Turning to the accused, Abigail said, “Did not you tell me that your maid had written?” Goody Procter seems to have been utterly amazed at the conduct and charges of the girls.  She knew, of course, that what they said was false; but perhaps she thought them crazy, and therefore objects of pity and compassion, and felt disposed to treat them kindly, and see whether they could not be recalled to their senses, and restored to their better nature:  for Parris, in his account,