Explore "Giles Corey, Yeoman" by Mary E. Wilkins on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
_Six weeks later._ Giles Corey's _cell in Salem jail. It is early morning._ Giles, _heavily chained, is sleeping upon his bed. A noise is heard at the door._ Giles _stirs and raises himself._
_Giles._ Yes, Martha, I'm coming. (_Noise continues._) I'm coming, Martha. (_Stares around the cell._) God help me, but I thought 'twas Martha calling me to supper, and 'tis a month since she died on Gallows Hill. I verily thought that I smelt the pork frying and the pan-cakes.