A stranger came next.

He was a traveler, passing through; and he spoke to her gently, and, seeing nobody but me there to hear, said he was sorry for her.
And he asked if what she confessed was true, and she said no.

He looked surprised and still more sorry then, and asked her: "Then why did you confess ?" "I am old and very poor," she said, "and I work for my living.

There was no way but to confess.

If I hadn't they might have set me free.
That would ruin me, for no one would forget that I had been suspected of being a witch, and so I would get no more work, and wherever I went they would set the dogs on me.