The cause of the tumult was soon plain.  At the outskirts of the village was a small stagnant pond, by the side of which was erected a post with a swinging beam.  At one end of the beam was a rough chair in which was bound a miserable old woman of repulsive appearance, whose face bore a look of mute despair.  Around her the crowd surged, yelling: "Duck her! Duck the witch!" while eggs and filth were thrown with no uncertain aim at the unhappy specimen of humanity whom the mob had seen fit to bait.