"Yes, they are possessed with devils--being children of their father, the devil!" she continued scornfully.

"And they shall have their reward.

As for you, Ann Putnam, in seven years from this day I summon you to meet those you have slain with your wicked, lying tongue, at the bar of Almighty God! It shall be a long dying for you!" Then, seeing Thomas Putnam by his wife's side, "And you, Thomas Putnam, you puppet in a bad woman's hands, chief aider and abettor of her wicked ways, you shall die two weeks before her, to make ready for her coming! And you," turning to the constables on each side of her, "for your cruel treatment of innocent women, shall die by this time next year!" The constables loosened their grasp of her hands and shrank back in dismay.

The "afflicted" suddenly hushed their cries and regained their composure, as they saw the accused maiden's eyes, lit up with the wildness of inspiration, glancing around their circle with lightning flashes that might strike at any moment.
Even Squire Hathorne's wine-crimsoned face paled, lest she would turn around and denounce him too.

Even if she were a witch, witches it was known sometimes spoke truly.