It is said that Willard had been called upon to aid in the arrest, custody, and bringing-in of persons accused, acting as a deputy-constable; and, from his observation of the deportment of the prisoners, and from all he heard and saw, his sympathies became excited in their behalf:  and he expressed, in more or less unguarded terms, his disapprobation of the proceedings.  He seems to have considered all hands concerned in the business—­accusers, accused, magistrates, and people—­as alike bewitched.  One of the witnesses against him deposed, that he said, in a “discourse” at the house of a relative, “Hang them:  they are all witches.”  In consequence of this kind of talk, in which he indulged as early as April, he incurred the ill-will of the parties engaged in the prosecutions; and it was whispered about that he was himself in the diabolical confederacy.  He was a grandson of Bray Wilkins; and the mind of the old man became prejudiced against him, and most of his family connections and neighbors partook of the feeling.  When Willard discovered that such rumors were in circulation against him, he went to his grandfather for counsel and the aid of his prayers.  He met with a cold reception, as appears by the deposition of the old man as follows:—­

“When John Willard was first complained of by the afflicted persons for afflicting of them, he came to my house, greatly troubled, desiring me, with some other neighbors, to pray for him.  I told him I was then going from home, and could not stay; but, if I could come home before night, I should not be unwilling.  But it was near night before I came home, and so I did not answer his desire; but I heard no more of him upon that account.  Whether my not answering his desire did not offend him, I cannot tell; but I was jealous, afterwards, that it did.”

Willard soon after made an engagement to go to Boston, on election-week, with Henry Wilkins, Jr.  A son of said Henry Wilkins, named Daniel,—­a youth of seventeen years of age, who had heard the stories against Willard, and believed them all, remonstrated with his father against going to Boston with Willard, and seemed much distressed at the thought, saying, among other things, “It were well if the said Willard were hanged.”

Old Bray Wilkins must go to election too; and so started off on horseback,—­the only mode of travel then practicable from Will’s Hill to Winnesimit Ferry,—­with his wife on a pillion behind him.  He was eighty-two years of age, and she probably not much less; for she had been the wife of his youth.  The old couple undoubtedly had an active time that week in Boston.  It was a great occasion, and the whole country flocked in to partake in the ceremonies and services of the anniversary.  On Election-day, with his wife, he rode out to Dorchester, to dine at the house of his “brother, Lieutenant Richard Way.”  Deodat Lawson and his new wife, and several more, joined them at table.  Before sitting down, Henry Wilkins and John Willard