of Richard, now her avowed lover; for, impelled by the irresistible
violence of his feelings, the young man had chosen that moment,
apparently so unpropitious, and so fraught with danger and alarm, for
the declaration of his passion, and the offer of his life in her
service. A few low-murmured words were all Alizon could utter in reply,
but they were enough. They told Richard his passion was requited, and
his devotion fully appreciated. Sweet were those moments to both--sweet,
though sad. Like Alizon, her lover had become insensible to all around
him. Engrossed by one thought and one object, he was lost to aught else,
and was only at last aroused to what was passing by the squire, who,
having good-naturedly removed to a little distance from the pair, now
gave utterance to a low whistle, to let them know that Mistress Nutter
was coming towards them. The lady, however, did not stop, but motioning
them to follow, entered the house.

"You have heard what has passed," she said. "In an hour Master Nowell
threatens to return and arrest me and Alizon."

"That shall never be," cried Richard, with a passionate look at the
young girl. "We will defend you with our lives."

"Much may be done in an hour," observed Nicholas to Mistress Nutter,
"and my advice to you is to use the time allowed you in making good your
retreat, so that, when the hawks come back, they may find the doves
flown."

"I have no intention of quitting my dovecot," replied Mistress Nutter,
with a bitter smile.

"Unless you are forcibly taken from it, I suppose," said the squire; "a
contingency not impossible if you await Roger Nowell's return. This
time, be assured, he will not go away empty-handed."

"He may not go away at all," rejoined Mistress Nutter, sternly.

"Then you mean to make a determined resistance?" said Nicholas.
"Recollect that you are resisting the law. I wish I could induce you to
resort to the safer expedient of flight. This affair is already dark and
perplexed enough, and does not require further complication. Find any
place of concealment, no matter where, till some arrangement can be made
with Roger Nowell."

"I should rather urge you to fly, Nicholas," rejoined the lady; "for it
is evident you have strong misgivings as to the justice of my cause,
and would not willingly compromise yourself. I will not surrender to
this magistrate, because, by so doing, my life would assuredly be
forfeited, for my innocence could never be established before the
iniquitous and bloody tribunal to which I should be brought. Neither,
for the same reason, will I surrender Alizon, who, with a refinement of
malignity, has been similarly accused. I shall now proceed to make
preparations for my defence. Go, if you think fitting--or stay--but if
you _do_ stay, I shall calculate upon your active services."

"You may," replied the squire. "Whatever I may think, I admire your
spirit, and will stand by you. But time is passing, and the foe will
return and find us engaged in deliberation when we ought to be prepared.
You have a dozen men on the premises on whom you can rely. Half of these
must be placed at the back of the house to prevent any entrance from
being effected in that quarter. The rest can remain within the entrance
hall, and be ready to rush forth when summoned by us; but we will not so
summon them unless we are hardly put to it, and their aid is
indispensable. All should be well armed, but I trust they will not have
to use their weapons. Are you agreed to this, madam?"

"I am," replied Mistress Nutter, "and I will give instant directions
that your wishes are complied with. All approaches to the back of the
house shall be strictly guarded as you direct, and my trusty man,
Blackadder, on whose fidelity and courage I can entirely rely, shall
take the command of the party in the hall, and act under your orders.
Your prowess will not be unobserved, for Alizon and I shall be in the
upper room commanding the garden, whence we can see all that takes
place."

A slight smile was exchanged between the lovers; but it was evident,
from her anxious looks, that Alizon did not share in Richard's
confidence. An opportunity, however, was presently afforded him of again
endeavouring to reassure her, for Mistress Nutter went forth to give
Blackadder his orders, and Nicholas betook himself to the back of the
house to ascertain, from personal inspection, its chance of security.

"You are still uneasy, dear Alizon," said Richard, taking her hand; "but
do not be cast down. No harm shall befall you."

"It is not for myself I am apprehensive," she replied, "but for you, who
are about to expose yourself to needless risk in this encounter; and, if
any thing should happen to you, I shall be for ever wretched. I would
far rather you left me to my fate."

"And can you think I would allow you to be borne away a captive to
ignominy and certain destruction?" cried Richard. "No, I will shed my
heart's best blood before such a calamity shall occur."

"Alas!" said Alizon, "I have no means of requiting your devotion. All I
can offer you in return is my love, and that, I fear, will prove fatal
to you."

"Oh! do not say so," cried Richard. "Why should this sad presentiment
still haunt you? I strove to chase it away just now, and hoped I had
succeeded. You are dearer to me than life. Why, therefore, should I not
risk it in your defence? And why should your love prove fatal to me?"

"I know not," replied Alizon, in a tone of deepest anguish, "but I feel
as if my destiny were evil; and that, against my will, I shall drag
those I most love on earth into the same dark gulf with myself. I have
the greatest affection for your sister Dorothy, and yet I have been the
unconscious instrument of injury to her. And you too, Richard, who are
yet dearer to me, are now put in peril on my account. I fear, too, when
you know my whole history, you will think of me as a thing of evil, and
shun me."

"What mean you, Alizon?" he cried.

"Richard, I can have no secrets from you," she replied; "and though I
was forbidden to tell you what I am now about to disclose, I will not
withhold it. I was born in this house, and am the daughter of its
mistress."

"You tell me only what I guessed, Alizon," rejoined the young man; "but
I see nothing in this why I should shun you."

Alizon hid her face for a moment in her hands; and then looking up, said
wildly and hurriedly, "Would I had never known the secret of my birth;
or, knowing it, had never seen what I beheld last night!"

"What did you behold?" asked Richard, greatly agitated.

"Enough to convince me, that in gaining a mother I was lost myself,"
replied Alizon; "for oh! how can I survive the shock of telling you I am
bound, by ties that can never be dissevered, to one abandoned alike of
God and man--who has devoted herself to the Fiend! Pity me,
Richard--pity me, and shun me!"

There was a moment's dreadful pause, which the young man was unable to
break.

"Was I not right in saying my love would be fatal to you?" continued
Alizon. "Fly from me while you can, Richard. Fly from this house, or you
are lost for ever!"

"Never, never! I will not stir without you," cried Richard. "Come with
me, and escape all the dangers by which you are menaced, and leave your
sinning parent to the doom she so richly merits."

"No, no; sinful though she be, she is still my mother. I cannot leave
her," cried Alizon.

"If you stay, I stay, be the consequences what they may," replied the
young man; "but you have rendered my arm powerless by what you have told
me. How can I defend one whom I know to be guilty?"

"Therefore I urge you to fly," she rejoined.

"I can reconcile myself to it thus," said Richard--"in defending you,
whom I know to be innocent, I cannot avoid defending her. The plea is
not a good one, but it will suffice to allay my scruples of conscience."

At this moment Mistress Nutter entered the hall, followed by Blackadder
and three other men, armed with calivers.

"All is ready, Richard," she said, "and it wants but a few minutes of
the appointed time. Perhaps you shrink from the task you have
undertaken?" she added, regarding him sharply; "if so, say so at once,
and I will adopt my own line of defence."

"Nay, I shall be ready to go forth in a moment," rejoined the young man,
glancing at Alizon. "Where is Nicholas?"

"Here," replied the squire, clapping him on the shoulder. "All is secure
at the back of the house, and the horses are coming round. We must mount
at once."

Richard arose without a word.

"Blackadder will attend to your orders," said Mistress Nutter; "he only
waits a sign from you to issue forth with his three companions, or to
fire through the windows upon the aggressors, if you see occasion for
it."

"I trust it will not come to such a pass," rejoined the squire; "a few
blows from these weapons will convince them we are in earnest, and will,
I hope, save further trouble."

And as he spoke he took down a couple of stout staves, and gave one of
them to Richard.

"Farewell, then, _preux chevaliers_" cried Mistress Nutter, with
affected gaiety; "demean yourselves valiantly, and remember that bright
eyes will be upon you. Now, Alizon, to our chamber."

Richard did not hazard a look at the young girl as she quitted the hall
with her mother, but followed the squire mechanically into the garden,
where they found the horses. Scarcely were they mounted than a loud
hubbub, arising from the little village, proclaimed that their opponents
had arrived, and presently after a large company of horse and foot
appeared at the gate.

At sight of the large force brought against them, the countenance of the
squire lost its confident and jovial expression. Pie counted nearly
forty men, each of whom was armed in some way or other, and began to
fear the affair would terminate awkwardly, and entail unpleasant
consequences upon himself and his cousin. He was, therefore, by no means
at his ease. As to Richard, he did not dare to ask himself how things
would end, neither did he know how to act. His mind was in utter
confusion, and his breast oppressed as if by a nightmare. He cast one
look towards the upper window, and beheld at it the white face of
Mistress Nutter, intently gazing at what was going forward, but Alizon
was not to be seen.

Within the last half hour the sky had darkened, and a heavy cloud hung
over the house, threatening a storm. Richard hoped it would come on
fiercely and fast.

Meanwhile, Roger Newell had dismounted and advanced to the gate.

"Gentlemen," he cried, addressing the two Asshetons, "I expected to find
free access given to me and my followers; but as these gates are still
barred against me, I call upon you, as loyal subjects of the King, not
to resist or impede the course of law, but to throw them instantly
open."

"You must unbar them yourself, Master Nowell," replied Nicholas. "We
shall give you no help."

"Nor offer any opposition, I hope, sir?" said the magistrate, sternly.

"You are twenty to one, or thereabout," returned the squire, with a
laugh; "we shall stand a poor chance with you."

"But other defensive and offensive preparations have been made, I doubt
not," said Nowell; "nay, I descry some armed men through the windows of
the hall. Before coming to extremities, I will make a last appeal to you
and your kinsman. I have granted Mistress Nutter and the girl with her
an hour's delay, in the hope that, seeing the futility of resistance,
they would quietly surrender. But I find my clemency thrown away, and
undue advantage taken of the time allowed for respite; therefore, I
shall show them no further consideration. But to you, my friends, I
would offer a last warning. Forget not that you are acting in direct
opposition to the law; that we are here armed with full authority and
power to carry out our intentions; and that all opposition on your part
will be fruitless, and will be visited upon you hereafter with severe
pains and penalties. Forget not, also, that your characters will be
irrecoverably damaged from your connexion with parties charged with the
heinous offence of witchcraft. Meddle not, therefore, in the matter, but
go your ways, or, if you would act as best becomes you, aid me in the
arrest of the offenders."

"Master Roger Nowell," replied Nicholas, walking his horse slowly
towards the gate, "as you have given me a caution, I will give you one
in return; and that is, to put a bridle on your tongue when you address
gentlemen, or, by my fay, you are likely to get answers little to your
taste. You have said that our characters are likely to suffer in this
transaction, but, in my humble opinion, they will not suffer so much as
your own. The magistrate who uses the arm of the law for purposes of
private vengeance, and who brings a false and foul charge against his
enemy, knowing that it cannot be repelled, is not entitled to any
particular respect or honour. Thus have you acted towards Mistress
Nutter. Defeated by her in the boundary question, without leaving its
decision to those to whom you had referred it, you instantly accuse her
of witchcraft, and seek to destroy her, as well as an innocent and
unoffending girl, by whom she is attended. Is such conduct worthy of
you, or likely to redound to your credit? I think not. But this is not
all. Aided by your crafty and unscrupulous ally, Master Potts, you get
together a number of Mistress Nutter's tenants, and, by threats and
misrepresentations, induce them to become instruments of your vengeance.
But when these misguided men come to know the truth of the case--when
they learn that you have no proofs whatever against Mistress Nutter, and
that you are influenced solely by animosity to her, they are quite as
likely to desert you as to stand by you. At all events, we are
determined to resist this unjust arrest, and, at the hazard of our
lives, to oppose your entrance into the house."

Nowell and Potts were greatly exasperated by this speech, but they were
little prepared for its consequences. Many of those who had been induced
to accompany them, as has been shown, wavered in their resolution of
acting against Mistress Nutter, but they now began to declare in her
favour. In vain Potts repeated all his former arguments. They were no
longer of any avail. Of the troop assembled at the gate more than half
marched off, and shaped their course towards the rear of the house--with
what intention it was easy to surmise--while of those who remained it
was very doubtful whether the whole of them would act.

The result of his oration was quite as surprising to Nicholas as to his
opponents, and, enchanted by the effect of his eloquence, he could not
help glancing up at the window, where he perceived Mistress Nutter,
whose smiles showed that she was equally well pleased.

Seeing that, if any further desertions took place, his chances would be
at an end, with a menacing gesture at the squire, Roger Nowell ordered
the attack to commence immediately.

While some of his men, amongst whom were Baldwyn and old Mitton,
battered against the gate with stones, another party, headed by Potts,
scaled the walls, which, though of considerable height, presented no
very serious obstacles in the way of active assailants. Elevated on the
shoulders of Sparshot, Potts was soon on the summit of the wall, and was
about to drop into the garden, when he heard a sound that caused him to
suspend his intention.

"What are you about to do, cousin Nicholas?" inquired Richard, as the
word of assault was given by the magistrate.

"Let loose Mistress Nutter's stag-hounds upon them," replied the squire.
"They are kept in leash by a varlet stationed behind yon yew-tree hedge,
who only awaits my signal to let them slip; and by my faith it is time
he had it."

As he spoke, he applied a dog-whistle to his lips, and, blowing a loud
call, it was immediately answered by a savage barking, and half a dozen
hounds, rough-haired, of prodigious size and power, resembling in make,
colour, and ferocity, the Irish wolf-hound bounded towards him.

"Aha!" exclaimed Nicholas, clapping his hands to encourage them: "we
could have dispersed the whole rout with these assistants. Hyke,
Tristam!--hyke, Hubert! Upon them!--upon them!"

It was the savage barking of the hounds that had caught the ears of the
alarmed attorney, and made him desirous to scramble back again. But this
was no such easy matter. Sparshot's broad shoulders were wanting to
place his feet upon, and while he was bruising his knees against the
roughened sides of the wall in vain attempts to raise himself to the top
of it unaided, Hubert's sharp teeth met in the calf of his leg, while
those of Tristam were fixed in the skirts of his doublet, and penetrated
deeply into the flesh that filled it. A terrific yell proclaimed the
attorney's anguish and alarm, and he redoubled his efforts to escape.
But, if before it was difficult to get up, the feat was now impossible.
All he could do was to cling with desperate tenacity to the coping of
the wall, for he made no doubt, if dragged down, he should be torn in
pieces. Roaring lustily for help, he besought Nicholas to have
compassion upon him; but the squire appeared little moved by his
distress, and laughed heartily at his yells and vociferations.

"You will not come again on a like errand, in a hurry, I fancy Master
Potts," he said.

"I will not, good Master Nicholas," rejoined Potts; "for pity's sake
call off these infernal hounds. They will rend me asunder as they would
a fox."

"You were a cunning fox, in good sooth, to come hither," rejoined
Nicholas, in a taunting tone; "but will you go hence if I liberate you?"

"I will--indeed I will!" replied Potts.

"And will no more molest Mistress Nutter?" thundered Nicholas.

"Take heed what you promise," roared Nowell from the other side of the
wall.

"If you do _not_ promise it, the hounds shall pull you down, and make a
meal of you!" cried Nicholas.

"I do--I swear--whatever you desire!" cried the terrified attorney.

The hounds were then called off by the squire, and, nerved by fright,
Potts sprang upon the wall, and tumbled over it upon the other side,
alighting upon the head of his respected and singular good client, whom
he brought to the ground.

Meanwhile, all those unlucky persons who had succeeded in scaling the
wall were attacked by the hounds, and, unable to stand against them,
were chased round the garden, to the infinite amusement of the squire.
Frightened to death, and unable otherwise to escape, for the gate
allowed them no means of exit, the poor wretches fled towards the
terrace overlooking Pendle Water, and, leaping into the stream, gained
the opposite bank. There they were safe, for the hounds were not allowed
to follow them further. In this way the garden was completely cleared of
the enemy, and Nicholas and Richard were left masters of the field.

Leaning out of the window, Mistress Nutter laughingly congratulated them
on their success, and, as no further disposition was manifested on the
part of Nowell and such of his troop that remained to renew the attack,
the contest, for the present at least, was supposed to be at an end.

By this time, also, intimation had been conveyed by the deserters from
Nowell's troop, who, it will be remembered, had made their way to the
back of the premises, that they were anxious to offer their services to
Mistress Nutter; and, as soon as this was told her, she ordered them to
be admitted, and descended to give them welcome. Thus things wore a
promising aspect for the besieged, while the assailing party were
proportionately disheartened.

Long ere this, Baldwyn and old Mitton had desisted from their attempts
to break open the gate, and, indeed, rejoiced that such a barrier was
interposed between them and the hounds, whose furious onslaughts they
witnessed. A bolt was launched against these four-footed guardians of
the premises by the bearer of the crossbow, but the man proved but an
indifferent marksman, for, instead of hitting the hound, he disabled one
of his companions who was battling with him. Finding things in this
state, and that neither Nowell nor Potts returned to their charge, while
their followers were withdrawn from before the gate, Nicholas thought he
might fairly infer that a victory had been obtained. But, like a prudent
leader, he did not choose to expose himself till the enemy had
absolutely yielded, and he therefore signed to Blackadder and his men to
come forth from the hall. The order was obeyed, not only by them, but by
the seceders from the hostile troop, and some thirty men issued from the
principal door, and, ranging themselves upon the lawn, set up a
deafening and triumphant shout, very different from that raised by the
same individuals when under the command of Nowell. At the same moment
Mistress Nutter and Alizon appeared at the door, and at the sight of
them the shouting was renewed.

The unexpected turn in affairs had not been without its effect upon
Richard and Alizon, and tended to revive the spirits of both. The
immediate danger by which they were threatened had vanished, and time
was given for the consideration of new plans. Richard had been firmly
resolved to take no further part in the affray than should be required
for the protection of Alizon, and, consequently, it was no little
satisfaction to him to reflect that the victory had been accomplished
without him, and by means which could not afterwards be questioned.

Meanwhile, Mistress Nutter had joined Nicholas, and the gates being
unbarred by Blackadder, they passed through them. At a little distance
stood Roger Nowell, now altogether abandoned, except by his own
immediate followers, with Baldwyn and old Mitton. Poor Potts was lying
on the ground, piteously bemoaning the lacerations his skin had
undergone.

"Well, you have got the worst of it, Master Nowell," said Nicholas, as
he and Mistress Nutter approached the discomfited magistrate, "and must
own yourself fairly defeated."

"Defeated as I am, I would rather be in my place than in yours, sir,"
retorted Nowell, sourly.

"You have had a wholesome lesson read you, Master Nowell," said Mistress
Nutter; "but I do not come hither to taunt you. I am quite satisfied
with the victory I have obtained, and am anxious to put an end to the
misunderstanding between us."

"I have no misunderstanding with you, madam," replied Nowell; "I do not
quarrel with persons like you. But be assured, though you may escape
now, a day of reckoning will come."

"Your chief cause of grievance against me, I am aware," replied Mistress
Nutter, calmly, "is, that I have beaten you in the matter of the land.
Now, I have a proposal to make to you respecting it."

"I cannot listen to it," rejoined Nowell, sternly; "I can have no
dealings with a witch."

At this moment his cloak was plucked behind by Potts, who looked at him
as much as to say, "Do not exasperate her. Hear what she has got to
offer."

"I shall be happy to act as mediator between you, if possible," observed
Nicholas; "but in that case I must request you, Master Nowell, to
abstain from any offensive language."

"What is it you have to propose to me, then, madam!" demanded the
magistrate, gruffly.

"Come with me into the house, and you shall hear," replied Mistress
Nutter.

Nowell was about to refuse peremptorily, when his cloak was again
plucked by Potts, who whispered him to go.

"This is not a snare laid to entrap me, madam?" he said, regarding the
lady suspiciously.

"I will answer for her good faith," interposed Nicholas.

Nowell still hesitated, but the counsel of his legal adviser was
enforced by a heavy shower of rain, which just then began to descend
upon them.

"You can take shelter beneath my roof," said Mistress Nutter; "and
before the shower is over we can settle the matter."

"And my wounds can be dressed at the same time," said Potts, with a
groan, "for they pain me sorely."

"Blackadder has a sovereign balsam, which, with a patch or two of
diachylon, will make all right," replied Nicholas, unable to repress a
laugh. "Here, lift him up between you," he added to the grooms, "and
convey him into the house."

The orders were obeyed, and Mistress Nutter led the way through the now
wide-opened gates; her slow and majestic march by no means accelerated
by the drenching shower. What Roger Nowell's sensations were at
following her in such a way, after his previous threats and boastings,
may be easily conceived.

CHAPTER X.--ROGER NOWELL AND HIS DOUBLE.

The magistrate was ushered by the lady into a small chamber, opening out
of the entrance-hall, which, in consequence of having only one small
narrow window, with a clipped yew-tree before it, was extremely dark and
gloomy. The walls were covered with sombre tapestry, and on entering,
Mistress Nutter not only carefully closed the door, but drew the arras
before it, so as to prevent the possibility of their conversation being
heard outside. These precautions taken, she motioned the magistrate to a
chair, and seated herself opposite him.

"We can now deal unreservedly with each other, Master Nowell," she said,
fixing her eyes steadily upon him; "and, as our discourse cannot be
overheard and repeated, may use perfect freedom of speech."

"I am glad of it," replied Nowell, "because it will save circumlocution,
which I dislike; and therefore, before proceeding further, I must tell
you, directly and distinctly, that if there be aught of witchcraft in
what you are about to propose to me, I will have nought to do with it,
and our conference may as well never begin."

"Then you really believe me to be a witch?" said the lady.

"I do," replied Nowell, unflinchingly.

"Since you believe this, you must also believe that I have absolute
power over you," rejoined Mistress Nutter, "and might strike you with
sickness, cripple you, or kill you if I thought fit."

"I know not that," returned Nowell. "There are limits even to the power
of evil beings; and your charms and enchantments, however strong and
baneful, may be wholly inoperative against a magistrate in the discharge
of his duty. If it were not so, you would scarcely think it worth while
to treat with me."

"Humph!" exclaimed the lady. "Now, tell me frankly, what you will do
when you depart hence?"

"Ride off with the utmost speed to Whalley," replied Nowell, "and,
acquainting Sir Ralph with all that has occurred, claim his assistance;
and then, with all the force we can jointly muster, return hither, and
finish the work I have left undone."

"You will forego this intention," said Mistress Nutter, with a bitter
smile.

The magistrate shook his head.

"I am not easily turned from my purpose," he remarked.

"But you have not yet quitted Rough Lee," said the lady, "and after such
an announcement I shall scarce think of parting with you."

"You dare not detain me," replied Nowell. "I have Nicholas Assheton's
word for my security, and I know he will not break it. Besides, you will
gain nothing by my detention. My absence will soon be discovered, and if
living I shall be set free; if dead, avenged."

"That may, or may not be," replied Mistress Nutter; "and in any case I
can, if I choose, wreak my vengeance upon you. I am glad to have
ascertained your intentions, for I now know how to treat with you. You
shall not go hence, except on certain conditions. You have said you will
proclaim me a witch, and will come back with sufficient force to
accomplish my arrest. Instead of doing this, I advise you to return to
Sir Ralph Assheton, and admit to him that you find yourself in error in
respect to the boundaries of the land--"

"Never," interrupted Nowell.

"I advise you to do this," pursued the lady, calmly, "and I advise you,
also, on quitting this room, to retract all you have uttered to my
prejudice, in the presence of Nicholas Assheton and other credible
witnesses; in which case I will not only lay aside all feelings of
animosity towards you, but will make over to you the whole of the land
under dispute, and that without purchase money on your part."

Roger Nowell was of an avaricious nature, and caught at the bait.

"How, madam!" he cried, "the whole of the land mine without payment?"

"The whole," she replied.

"If she should be arraigned and convicted it will be forfeited to the
crown," thought Nowell; "the offer is tempting."

"Your attorney is here, and can prepare the conveyance at once," pursued
Mistress Nutter; "a sum can be stated to lend a colour to the
proceeding, and I will give you a private memorandum that I will not
claim it. All I require is, that you clear me completely from the dark
aspersions cast upon my character, and you abandon your projects against
my adopted daughter, Alizon, as well as against those two poor old
women, Mothers Demdike and Chattox."

"How can I be sure that I shall not be deluded in the matter?" asked
Nowell; "the writing may disappear from the parchment you give me, or
the parchment itself may turn to ashes. Such things have occurred in
transactions with witches. Or it be that, by consenting to the compact,
I may imperil my own soul."

"Tush!" exclaimed Mistress Nutter; "these are idle fears. But it is no
idle threat on my part, when I tell you you shall not go forth unless
you consent."

"You cannot hinder me, woman," cried Nowell, rising.

"You shall see," rejoined the lady, making two or three rapid passes
before him, which instantly stiffened his limbs, and deprived him of the
power of motion. "Now, stir if you can," she added with a laugh.

Nowell essayed to cry out, but his tongue refused its office. Hearing
and sight, however, were left him, and he saw Mistress Nutter take a
large volume, bound in black, from the shelf, and open it at a page
covered with cabalistic characters, after which she pronounced some
words that sounded like an invocation.

As she concluded, the tapestry against the wall was raised, and from
behind it appeared a figure in all respects resembling the magistrate:
it had the same sharp features, the same keen eyes and bushy eyebrows,
the same stoop in the shoulders, the same habiliments. It was, in short,
his double.

Mistress Nutter regarded him with a look of triumph.

"Since you refuse, with my injunctions," she said, "your double will
prove more tractable. He will go forth and do all I would have you do,
while I have but to stamp upon the floor and a dungeon will yawn beneath
your feet, where you will lie immured till doomsday. The same fate will
attend your crafty associate, Master Potts--so that neither of you will
be missed--ha! ha!"

The unfortunate magistrate fully comprehended his danger, but he could
now neither offer remonstrance nor entreaty. What was passing in his
breast seemed known to Mistress Nutter; for she motioned the double to
stay, and, touching the brow of Nowell with the point of her forefinger,
instantly restored his power of speech.

"I will give you a last chance," she said. "Will you obey me now?"

"I must, perforce," replied Nowell: "the contest is too unequal."

"You may retire, then," she cried to the double. And stepping backwards,
the figure lifted up the tapestry, and disappeared behind it.

"I can breathe, now that infernal being is gone," cried Nowell, sinking
into the chair. "Oh! madam, you have indeed terrible power."

"You will do well not to brave it again," she rejoined. "Shall I summon
Master Potts to prepare the conveyance?"

"Oh! no--no!" cried Nowell. "I do not desire the land. I will not have
it. I shall pay too dearly for it. Only let me get out of this horrible
place?"

"Not so quickly, sir," rejoined Mistress Nutter. "Before you go hence,
I must bind you to the performance of my injunctions. Pronounce these
words after me,--'May I become subject to the Fiend if I fail in my
promise.'"

"I will never utter them!" cried Nowell, shuddering.

"Then I shall recall your double," said the lady.

"Hold, hold!" exclaimed Nowell. "Let me know what you require of me."

"I require absolute silence on your part, as to all you have seen and
heard here, and cessation of hostility towards me and the persons I have
already named," replied Mistress Nutter; "and I require a declaration
from you, in the presence of the two Asshetons, that you are fully
satisfied of the justice of my claims in respect to the land; and that,
mortified by your defeat, you have brought a false charge against me,
which you now sincerely regret. This I require from you; and you must
ratify the promise by the abjuration I have proposed. 'May I become
subject to the Fiend if I fail in my promise.'"

The magistrate repeated the words after her. As he finished, mocking
laughter, apparently resounding from below, smote his ears.

"Enough!" cried Mistress Nutter, triumphantly; "and now take good heed
that you swerve not in the slightest degree from your word, or you are
for ever lost."

Again the mocking laughter was heard, and Nowell would have rushed
forth, if Mistress Nutter had not withheld him.

"Stay!" she cried, "I have not done with you yet! My witnesses must hear
your declaration. Remember!"

And placing her finger upon her lips, in token of silence, she stepped
backwards, drew aside the tapestry, and, opening the door, called to the
two Asshetons, both of whom instantly came to her, and were not a little
surprised to learn that all differences had been adjusted, and that
Roger Nowell acknowledged himself entirely in error, retracting all the
charges he had brought against her; while, on her part, she was fully
satisfied with his explanations and apologies, and promised not to
entertain any feelings of resentment towards him.

"You have made up the matter, indeed," cried Nicholas, "and, as Master
Roger Nowell is a widower, perhaps a match may come of it. Such an
arrangement"--

"This is no occasion for jesting, Nicholas," interrupted the lady,
sharply.

"Nay, I but threw out a hint," rejoined the squire. "It would set the
question of the land for ever at rest."

"It is set at rest--for ever!" replied the lady, with a side look at the
magistrate.

"'May I become subject to the Fiend if I fail in my promise,'" repeated
Nowell to himself. "Those words bind me like a chain of iron. I must get
out of this accursed house as fast as I can."

As if his thoughts had been divined by Mistress Nutter, she here
observed to him, "To make our reconciliation complete, Master Nowell, I
must entreat you to pass the day with me. I will give you the best
entertainment my house affords--nay, I will take no denial; and you too,
Nicholas, and you, Richard, you will stay and keep the worthy magistrate
company."

The two Asshetons willingly assented, but Roger Nowell would fain have
been excused. A look, however, from his hostess enforced compliance.

"The proposal will be highly agreeable, I am sure, to Master Potts,"
remarked Nicholas, with a laugh; "for though much better, in consequence
of the balsam applied by Blackadder, he is scarcely in condition for the
saddle."

"I will warrant him well to-morrow morning," said Mistress Nutter.

"Where is he?" inquired Nowell.

"In the library with Parson Holden," replied Nicholas; "making himself
as comfortable as circumstances will permit, with a flask of Rhenish
before him."

"I will go to him, then," said Nowell.

"Take care what you say to him," observed Mistress Nutter, in a low
tone, and raising her finger to her lips.

Heaving a deep sigh, the magistrate then repaired to the library, a
small room panelled with black oak, and furnished with a few cases of
ancient tomes. The attorney and the divine were seated at a table, with
a big square-built bottle and long-stemmed glasses before them, and
Master Potts, with a wry grimace, excused himself from rising on his
respected and singular good client's approach.

"Do not disturb yourself," said Nowell, gruffly; "we shall not leave
Rough Lee to-day."

"I am glad to hear it," replied Potts, moving the cushions on his chair
and eyeing the square-built bottle affectionately.

"Nor to-morrow, it may be--nor the day after--nor at all, possibly,"
said Nowell.

"Indeed!" exclaimed Potts, starting, and wincing with pain. "What is the
meaning of all this, worthy sir?"

"'May I become the subject of the Fiend if I fail in my promise,'"
rejoined Nowell, with a groan.

"What promise, worshipful sir?" cried Potts, staring with surprise.

The magistrate got out the words, "My promise to--" and then he stopped
suddenly.

"To Mistress Nutter?" suggested Potts.

"Don't ask me," exclaimed Nowell, fiercely. "Don't draw any erroneous
conclusions, man. I mean nothing--I say nothing!"

"He is certainly bewitched," observed Parson Holden in an under-tone to
the attorney.

"It was by your advice I entered this house," thundered Nowell, "and
may all the ill arising from it alight upon your head!"

"My respected client!" implored Potts.

"I am no longer your client!" shrieked the infuriated magistrate. "I
dismiss you. I will have nought to do with you more. I wish I had never
seen your ugly little face!"

"You were quite right, reverend sir," observed Potts aside to the
divine; "he is certainly bewitched, or he never would behave in this way
to his best friend. My excellent sir," he added to Nowell, "I beseech
you to calm yourself, and listen to me. My motive for wishing you to
comply with Mistress Nutter's request was this: We were in a dilemma
from which there was no escape, my wounded condition preventing me from
flight, and all your followers being dispersed. Knowing your discretion,
I apprehended that, finding the tables turned against you, you would not
desire to play a losing game, and I therefore counselled apparent
submission as the best means of disarming your antagonist. Whatever
arrangement you have made with Mistress Nutter is neither morally nor
legally binding upon you."

"You think not!" cried Nowell. "'May I become subject to the Fiend if I
violate my promise!'"

"What promise have you made, sir?" inquired Potts and Holden together.

"Do not question me," cried Nowell; "it is sufficient that I am tied and
bound by it."

The attorney reflected a little, and then observed to Holden, "It is
evident some unfair practices have been resorted to with our respected
friend, to extort a promise from him which he cannot violate. It is also
possible, from what he let fall at first, that an attempt may be made to
detain us prisoners within this house, and, for aught I know, Master
Nowell may have given his word not to go forth without Mistress Nutter's
permission. Under these circumstances, I would beg of you, reverend sir,
as an especial favour to us both, to ride over to Whalley, and acquaint
Sir Ralph Assheton with our situation."

As this suggestion was made, Nowell's countenance brightened up. The
expression was not lost upon the attorney, who perceived he was on the
right tack.

"Tell the worthy baronet," continued Potts, "that his old and esteemed
friend, Master Roger Nowell, is in great jeopardy--am I not right, sir?"

The magistrate nodded.

"Tell him he is forcibly detained a prisoner, and requires sufficient
force to effect his immediate liberation. Tell him, also, that Master
Nowell charges Mistress Nutter with robbing him of his land by
witchcraft."

"No, no!" interrupted Nowell; "do not tell him that. I no longer charge
her with it."

"Then, tell him that I do," cried Potts; "and that Master Nowell has
strangely, very strangely, altered his mind."

"'May I become subject to the Fiend if I violate my promise!'" said the
magistrate.

"Ay, tell him that," cried the attorney--"tell him the worthy gentleman
is constantly repeating that sentence. It will explain all. And now,
reverend sir, let me entreat you to set out without delay, or your
departure may be prevented."

"I will go at once," said Holden.

As he was about to quit the apartment, Mistress Nutter appeared at the
door. Confusion was painted on the countenances of all three.

"Whither go you, sir?" demanded the lady, sharply.

"On a mission which cannot be delayed, madam," replied Holden.

"You cannot quit my house at present," she rejoined, peremptorily.
"These gentlemen stay to dine with me, and I cannot dispense with your
company."

"My duty calls me hence," returned the divine. "With all thanks for your
proffered hospitality, I must perforce decline it."

"Not when I command you to stay," she rejoined, raising her hand; "I am
absolute mistress here."

"Not over the servants of heaven, madam," replied the divine, taking a
Bible from his pocket, and placing it before him. "By this sacred volume
I shield myself against your spells, and command you to let me pass."

And as he went forth, Mistress Nutter, unable to oppose him, shrank
back.

CHAPTER XI.--MOTHER DEMDIKE.

The heavy rain, which began to fall as Roger Nowell entered Rough Lee,
had now ceased, and the sun shone forth again brilliantly, making the
garden look so fresh and beautiful that Richard proposed a stroll within
it to Alizon. The young girl seemed doubtful at first whether to comply
with the invitation; but she finally assented, and they went forth
together alone, for Nicholas, fancying they could dispense with his
company, only attended them as far as the door, where he remained
looking after them, laughing to himself, and wondering how matters would
end. "No good will come of it, I fear," mused the worthy squire, shaking
his head, "and I am scarcely doing right in allowing Dick to entangle
himself in this fashion. But where is the use of giving advice to a
young man who is over head and ears in love? He will never listen to it,
and will only resent interference. Dick must take his chance. I have
already pointed out the danger to him, and if he chooses to run
headlong into the pit, why, I cannot hinder him. After all, I am not
much surprised. Alizon's beauty is quite irresistible, and, were all
smooth and straightforward in her history, there could be no reason
why--pshaw! I am as foolish as the lad himself. Sir Richard Assheton,
the proudest man in the shire, would disown his son if he married
against his inclinations. No, my pretty youthful pair, since nothing but
misery awaits you, I advise you to make the most of your brief season of
happiness. I should certainly do so were the case my own."

Meanwhile, the objects of these ruminations had reached the terrace
overlooking Pendle Water, and were pacing slowly backwards and forwards
along it.

"One might be very happy in this sequestered spot, Alizon," observed
Richard. "To some persons it might appear dull, but to me, if blessed
with you, it would be little short of Paradise."

"Alas! Richard," she replied, forcing a smile, "why conjure up visions
of happiness which never can be realised? But even with you I do not
think I could be happy here. There is something about the house which,
when I first beheld it, filled me with unaccountable terror. Never since
I was a mere infant have I been within it till to-day, and yet it was
quite familiar to me--horribly familiar. I knew the hall in which we
stood together, with its huge arched fireplace, and the armorial
bearings upon it, and could point out the stone on which were carved my
father's initials 'R.N.,' with the date '1572.' I knew the tapestry on
the walls, and the painted glass in the long range windows. I knew the
old oak staircase, and the gallery beyond it, and the room to which my
mother led me. I knew the portraits painted on the panels, and at once
recognised my father. I knew the great carved oak bedstead in this room,
and the high chimney-piece, and the raised hearthstone, and shuddered as
I gazed at it. You will ask me how these things could be familiar to me?
I will tell you. I had seen them repeatedly in my dreams. They have
haunted me for years, but I only to-day knew they had an actual
existence, or were in any way connected with my own history. The sight
of that house inspired me with a horror I have not been able to
overcome; and I have a presentiment that some ill will befall me within
it. I would never willingly dwell there."

"The warning voice within you, which should never be despised, prompts
you to quit it," cried Richard; "and I also urge you in like manner."

"In vain," sighed Alizon. "This terrace is beautiful," she added, as
they resumed their walk, "and I shall often come hither, if I am
permitted. At sunset, this river, and the woody heights above it, must
be enchanting; and I do not dislike the savage character of the
surrounding scenery. It enhances, by contrast, the beauty of this
solitude. I only wish the spot commanded a view of Pendle Hill."

"You are like my cousin Nicholas, who thinks no prospect complete
unless that hill forms part of it," said Richard; "but since I find that
you will often come hither at sunset, I shall not despair of seeing and
conversing with you again, even if I am forbidden the house by Mistress
Nutter. That thicket is an excellent hiding-place, and this stream is
easily crossed."

"We can have no secret interviews, Richard," replied Alizon; "I shall
come hither to think of you, but not to meet you. You must never return
to Rough Lee again--that is, not unless some change takes place, which I
dare not anticipate--but, hist! I am called. I must go back to the
house."

"The voice came from the other side of the river," said Richard--"and,
hark! it calls again. Who can it be?"

"It is Jennet," replied Alizon; "I see her now."

And she pointed out the little girl standing beside an alder on the
opposite bank.

"Yo didna notice me efore, Alizon," cried Jennet in her sharp tone, and
with her customary provoking laugh, "boh ey seed yo plain enuff, an
heer'd yo too; and ey heer'd Mester Ruchot say he wad hide i' this
thicket, an cross the river to meet ye at sunset. Little pigs, they say,
ha' lang ears, an mine werena gi'en me fo' nowt."

"They have somewhat misinformed you in this instance," replied Alizon;
"but how, in the name of wonder, did you come here?"

"Varry easily," replied Jennet, "boh ey hanna time to tell ye now.
Granny Demdike has sent me hither wi' a message to ye and Mistress
Nutter. Boh may be ye winna loike Mester Ruchot to hear what ey ha'
getten to tell ye."

"I will leave you," said Richard, about to depart.

"Oh! no, no!" cried Alizon, "she can have nothing to say which you may
not hear."

"Shan ey go back to Granny Demdike, an tell her yo're too proud to
receive her message?" asked the child.

"On no account," whispered Richard. "Do not let her anger the old hag."

"Speak, Jennet," said Alizon, in a tone of kind persuasion.

"Ey shanna speak onless ye cum ower t' wetur to me," replied the little
girl; "an whot ey ha to tell consarns ye mitch."

"I can easily cross," observed Alizon to Richard. "Those stones seem
placed on purpose."

Upon this, descending from the terrace to the river's brink, and
springing lightly upon the first stone which reared its head above the
foaming tide, she bounded to another, and so in an instant was across
the stream. Richard saw her ascend the opposite bank, and approach
Jennet, who withdrew behind the alder; and then he fancied he perceived
an old beldame, partly concealed by the intervening branches of the
tree, advance and seize hold of her. Then there was a scream; and the
sound had scarcely reached the young man's ears before he was down the
bank and across the river, but when he reached the alder, neither
Alizon, nor Jennet, nor the old beldame were to be seen.

The terrible conviction that she had been carried off by Mother Demdike
then smote him, and though he continued his search for her among the
adjoining bushes, it was with fearful misgivings. No answer was returned
to his shouts, nor could he discover any trace of the means by which
Alizon had been spirited away.

After some time spent in ineffectual search, uncertain what course to
pursue, and with a heart full of despair, Richard crossed the river, and
proceeded towards the house, in front of which he found Mistress Nutter
and Nicholas, both of whom seemed surprised when they perceived he was
unaccompanied by Alizon. The lady immediately, and somewhat sharply,
questioned him as to what had become of her adopted daughter, and
appeared at first to doubt his answer; but at length, unable to question
his sincerity, she became violently agitated.

"The poor girl has been conveyed away by Mother Demdike," she cried,
"though for what purpose I am at a loss to conceive. The old hag could
not cross the running water, and therefore resorted to that stratagem."

"Alizon must not be left in her hands, madam," said Richard.

"She must not," replied the lady. "If Blackadder, whom I have sent after
Parson Holden, were here, I would despatch him instantly to Malkin
Tower."

"I will go instead," said Richard.

"You had better accept his offer," interposed Nicholas; "he will serve
you as well as Blackadder."

"Go I shall, madam," cried Richard; "if not on your account, on my own."

"Come, then, with me," said the lady, entering the house, "and I will
furnish you with that which shall be your safeguard in the enterprise."

With this, she proceeded to the closet where her interview with Roger
Nowell had been held; and, unlocking an ebony cabinet, took from a
drawer within it a small flat piece of gold, graven with mystic
characters, and having a slender chain of the same metal attached to it.
Throwing the chain over Richard's neck, she said, "Place this talisman,
which is of sovereign virtue, near your heart, and no witchcraft shall
have power over you. But be careful that you are not by any artifice
deprived of it, for the old hag will soon discover that you possess some
charm to protect you against her spells. You are impatient to be gone,
but I have not yet done," she continued, taking down a small silver
bugle from a hook, and giving it him. "On reaching Malkin Tower, wind
this horn thrice, and the old witch will appear at the upper window.
Demand admittance in my name, and she will not dare to refuse you; or,
if she does, tell her you know the secret entrance to her stronghold,
and will have recourse to it. And in case this should be needful, I will
now disclose it to you, but you must not use it till other means fail.
When opposite the door, which you will find is high up in the building,
take ten paces to the left, and if you examine the masonry at the foot
of the tower, you will perceive one stone somewhat darker than the rest.
At the bottom of this stone, and concealed by a patch of heath, you will
discover a knob of iron. Touch it, and it will give you an opening to a
vaulted chamber, whence you can mount to the upper room. Even then you
may experience some difficulty, but with resolution you will surmount
all obstacles."

"I have no fear of success, madam," replied Richard, confidently.

And quitting her, he proceeded to the stables, and calling for his
horse, vaulted into the saddle, and galloped off towards the bridge.

Fast as Richard rode up the steep hill-side, still faster did the black
clouds gather over his head. No natural cause could have produced so
instantaneous a change in the aspect of the sky, and the young man
viewed it with uneasiness, and wished to get out of the thicket in which
he was now involved, before the threatened thunder-storm commenced. But
the hill was steep and the road bad, being full of loose stones, and
crossed in many places by bare roots of trees. Though ordinarily
surefooted, Merlin stumbled frequently, and Richard was obliged to
slacken his pace. It grew darker and darker, and the storm seemed ready
to burst upon him. The smaller birds ceased singing, and screened
themselves under the thickest foliage; the pie chattered incessantly;
the jay screamed; the bittern flew past, booming heavily in the air; the
raven croaked; the heron arose from the river, and speeded off with his
long neck stretched out; and the falcon, who had been hovering over him,
sweeped sidelong down and sought shelter beneath an impending rock; the
rabbit scudded off to his burrow in the brake; and the hare, erecting
himself for a moment, as if to listen to the note of danger, crept
timorously off into the long dry grass.

It grew so dark at last that the road was difficult to discern, and the
dense rows of trees on either side assumed a fantastic appearance in the
deep gloom. Richard was now more than half-way up the hill, and the
thicket had become more tangled and intricate, and the road narrower and
more rugged. All at once Merlin stopped, quivering in every limb, as if
in extremity of terror.

Before the rider, and right in his path, glared a pair of red fiery
orbs, with something dusky and obscure linked to them; but whether of
man or beast he could not distinguish.

Richard called to it. No answer. He struck spurs into the reeking flanks
of his horse. The animal refused to stir. Just then there was a moaning
sound in the wood, as of some one in pain. He turned in the direction,
shouted, but received no answer. When he looked back the red eyes were
gone.

Then Merlin moved forward of his own accord, but ere he had gone far,
the eyes were visible again, glaring at the rider from the wood. This
time they approached, dilating, and increasing in glowing intensity,
till they scorched him like burning-glasses. Bethinking him of the
talisman, Richard drew it forth. The light was instantly extinguished,
and the indistinct figure accompanying it melted into darkness.

Once more Merlin resumed his toilsome way, and Richard was marvelling
that the storm so long suspended its fury, when the sky was riven by a
sudden blaze, and a crackling bolt shot down and struck the earth at his
feet. The affrighted steed reared aloft, and was with difficulty
prevented from falling backwards upon his rider. Almost before he could
be brought to his feet, an awful peal of thunder burst overhead, and it
required Richard's utmost efforts to prevent him from rushing madly down
the hill.

The storm had now fairly commenced. Flash followed flash, and peal
succeeded peal, without intermission. The rain descended hissing and
spouting, and presently ran down the hill in a torrent, adding to the
horseman's other difficulties and dangers. To heighten the terror of the
scene, strange shapes, revealed by the lightning, were seen flitting
among the trees, and strange sounds were heard, though overpowered by
the dreadful rolling of the thunder.

But Richard's resolution continued unshaken, and he forced Merlin on. He
had not proceeded far, however, when the animal uttered a cry of fright,
and began beating the air with his fore hoofs. The lightning enabled
Richard to discern the cause of this new distress. Coiled round the poor
beast's legs, all whose efforts to disengage himself from the terrible
assailant were ineffectual, was a large black snake, seemingly about to
plunge its poisonous fangs into the flesh. Again having recourse to the
talisman, and bending down, Richard stretched it towards the snake, upon
which the reptile instantly darted its arrow-shaped head against him,
but instead of wounding him, its forked teeth encountered the piece of
gold, and, as if stricken a violent blow, it swiftly untwined itself,
and fled, hissing, into the thicket.

Richard was now obliged to dismount and lead his horse. In this way he
toiled slowly up the hill. The storm continued with unabated fury: the
red lightning played around him, the brattling thunder stunned him, and
the pelting rain poured down upon his head. But he was no more
molested. Save for the vivid flashes, it had become dark as night, but
they served to guide him on his way.

At length he got out of the thicket, and trod upon the turf, but it was
rendered so slippery by moisture, that he could scarcely keep his feet,
while the lightning no longer aided him. Fearing he had taken a wrong
course, he stood still, and while debating with himself a blaze of light
illumined the wide heath, and showed him the object of his search,
Malkin Tower, standing alone, like a beacon, at about a quarter of a
mile's distance, on the further side of the hill. Was it disturbed
fancy, or did he really behold on the summit of the structure a grisly
shape resembling--if it resembled any thing human--a gigantic black cat,
with roughened staring skin, and flaming eyeballs?

Nerved by the sight of the tower, Richard was on his steed's back in an
instant, and the animal, having in some degree recovered his spirits,
galloped off with him, and kept his feet in spite of the slippery state
of the road. Erelong, another flash showed the young man that he was
drawing rapidly near the tower, and dismounting, he tied Merlin to a
tree, and hurried towards the unhallowed pile. When within twenty paces
of it, mindful of Mistress Nutter's injunctions, he placed the bugle to
his lips, and winded it thrice. The summons, though clear and loud,
sounded strangely in the portentous silence.

Scarcely had the last notes died away, when a light shone through the
dark red curtains hanging before a casement in the upper part of the
tower. The next moment these were drawn aside, and a face appeared, so
frightful, so charged with infernal wickedness and malice, that
Richard's blood grew chill at the sight. Was it man or woman? The white
beard, and the large, broad, masculine character of the countenance,
seemed to denote the, former, but the garb was that of a female. The
face was at once hideous and fantastic--the eyes set across--the mouth
awry--the right cheek marked by a mole shining with black hair, and
horrible from its contrast to the rest of the visage, and the brow
branded as if by a streak of blood. A black thrum cap constituted the
old witch's head-gear, and from beneath it her hoary hair escaped in
long elf-locks. The lower part of her person was hidden from view, but
she appeared to be as broad-shouldered as a man, and her bulky person
was wrapped in a tawny-coloured robe. Throwing open the window, she
looked forth, and demanded in harsh imperious tones--

"Who dares to summon Mother Demdike?"

"A messenger from Mistress Nutter," replied Richard. "I am come in her
name to demand the restitution of Alizon Device, whom thou hast forcibly
and wrongfully taken from her."

"Alizon Device is my grand-daughter, and, as such, belongs to me, and
not to Mistress Nutter," rejoined Mother Demdike.

"Thou knowest thou speakest false, foul hag!" cried Richard. "Alizon is
no blood of thine. Open the door and cast down the ladder, or I will
find other means of entrance."

"Try them, then," rejoined Mother Demdike. And she closed the casement
sharply, and drew the curtains over it.

After reconnoitring the building for a moment, Richard moved quickly to
the left, and counting ten paces, as directed by Mistress Nutter, began
to search among the thick grass growing near the base of the tower for
the concealed entrance. It was too dark to distinguish any difference in
the colour of the masonry, but he was sure he could not be far wrong,
and presently his hand came in contact with a knob of iron. He pressed
it, but it did not yield to the touch. Again more forcibly, but with
like ill success. Could he be mistaken? He tried the next stone, and
discovered another knob upon it, but this was as immovable as the first.
He went on, and then found that each stone was alike, and that if
amongst the number he had chanced upon the one worked by the secret
spring, it had refused to act. On examining the structure so far as he
was able to do in the gloom, he found he had described the whole circle
of the tower, and was about to commence the search anew, when a creaking
sound was heard above, and a light streamed suddenly down upon him. The
door had been opened by the old witch, and she stood there with a lamp
in her hand, its yellow flame illumining her hideous visage, and short,
square, powerfully built frame. Her throat was like that of a bull; her
hands of extraordinary size; and her arms, which were bare to the
shoulder, brawny and muscular.

"What, still outside?" she cried in a jeering tone, and with a wild
discordant laugh. "Methought thou affirmedst thou couldst find a way
into my dwelling."

"I do not yet despair of finding it," replied Richard.

"Fool!" screamed the hag. "I tell thee it is in vain to attempt it
without my consent. With a word, I could make these walls one solid
mass, without window or outlet from base to summit. With a word, I could
shower stones upon thy head, and crush thee to dust. With a word, I
could make the earth swallow thee up. With a word, I could whisk thee
hence to the top of Pendle Hill. Ha! ha! Dost fear me now?"

"No," replied Richard, undauntedly. "And the word thou menacest me with
shall never be uttered."

"Why not?" asked Mother Demdike, derisively.

"Because thou wouldst not brave the resentment of one whose power is
equal to thine own--if not greater," replied the young man.

"Greater it is not--neither equal," rejoined the old hag, haughtily;
"but I do not desire a quarrel with Alice Nutter. Only let her not
meddle with me."

"Once more, art thou willing to admit me?" demanded Richard.

"Ay, upon one condition," replied Mother Demdike. "Thou shalt learn it
anon. Stand aside while I let down the ladder."

Richard obeyed, and a pair of narrow wooden steps dropped to the ground.

"Now mount, if thou hast the courage," cried the hag.

The young man was instantly beside her, but she stood in the doorway,
and barred his further progress with her extended staff. Now that he was
face to face with her, he wondered at his own temerity. There was
nothing human in her countenance, and infernal light gleamed in her
strangely-set eyes. Her personal strength, evidently unimpaired by age,
or preserved by magical art, seemed equal to her malice; and she
appeared as capable of executing any atrocity, as of conceiving it. She
saw the effect produced upon him, and chuckled with malicious
satisfaction.

"Saw'st thou ever face like mine?" she cried. "No, I wot not. But I
would rather inspire aversion and terror than love. Love!--foh! I would
rather see men shrink from me, and shudder at my approach, than smile
upon me and court me. I would rather freeze the blood in their veins,
than set it boiling with passion. Ho! ho!"

"Thou art a fearful being, indeed!" exclaimed Richard, appalled.

"Fearful, am I?" ejaculated the old witch, with renewed laughter. "At
last thou own'st it. Why, ay, I _am_ fearful. It is my wish to be so. I
live to plague mankind--to blight and blast them--to scare them with my
looks--to work them mischief. Ho! ho! And now, let us look at thee," she
continued, holding the lamp over him. "Why, soh?--a comely youth! And
the young maids doat upon thee, I doubt not, and praise thy blooming
cheeks, thy bright eyes, thy flowing locks, and thy fine limbs. I hate
thy beauty, boy, and would mar it!--would canker thy wholesome flesh,
dim thy lustrous eyes, and strike thy vigorous limbs with palsy, till
they should shake like mine! I am half-minded to do it," she added,
raising her staff, and glaring at him with inconceivable malignity.

"Hold!" exclaimed Richard, taking the talisman from his breast, and
displaying it to her. "I am armed against thy malice!"

Mother Demdike's staff fell from her grasp.

"I knew thou wert in some way protected," she cried furiously. "And so
it is a piece of gold--with magic characters upon it, eh?" she added,
suddenly changing her tone; "Let me look at it."

"Thou seest it plain enough," rejoined Richard. "Now, stand aside and
let me pass, for thou perceivest I have power to force an entrance."

"I see it--I see it," replied Mother Demdike, with affected humility. "I
see it is in vain to struggle with thee, or rather with the potent lady
who sent thee. Tarry where thou art, and i will bring Alizon to thee."

"I almost mistrust thee," said Richard--"but be speedy."

"I will be scarce a moment," said the witch; "but I must warn thee that
she is--"

"What--what hast thou done to her, thou wicked hag?" cried Richard, in
alarm.

"She is distraught," said Mother Demdike.

"Distraught!" echoed Richard.

"But thou canst easily cure her," said the old hag, significantly.

"Ay, so I can," cried Richard with sudden joy--"the talisman! Bring her
to me at once."

Mother Demdike departed, leaving him in a state of indescribable
agitation. The walls of the tower were of immense thickness, and the
entrance to the chamber towards which the arched doorway led was covered
by a curtain of old arras, behind which the hag had disappeared.
Scarcely had she entered the room when a scream was heard, and Richard
heard his own name pronounced by a voice which, in spite of its agonised
tones, he at once recognised. The cries were repeated, and he then heard
Mother Demdike call out, "Come hither! come hither!"

Instantly rushing forward and dashing aside the tapestry, he found
himself in a mysterious-looking circular chamber, with a massive oak
table in the midst of it. There were many strange objects in the room,
but he saw only Alizon, who was struggling with the old witch, and
clinging desperately to the table. He called to her by name as he
advanced, but her bewildered looks proved that she did not know him.

"Alizon--dear Alizon! I am come to free you," he exclaimed.

But in place of answering him she uttered a piercing scream.

"The talisman, the talisman?" cried the hag. "I cannot undo my own work.
Place the chain round her neck, and the gold near her heart, that she
may experience its full virtue."

Richard unsuspectingly complied with the suggestion of the temptress;
but the moment he had parted with the piece of gold the figure of Alizon
vanished, the chamber was buried in gloom, and, amidst a hubbub of wild
laughter, he was dragged by the powerful arm of the witch through the
arched doorway, and flung from it to the ground, the shock of the fall
producing immediate insensibility.

CHAPTER XII.--THE MYSTERIES OF MALKIN TOWER.

It was a subterranean chamber; gloomy, and of vast extent; the roof low,
and supported by nine ponderous stone columns, to which rings and rusty
chains were attached, still retaining the mouldering bones of those they
had held captive in life. Amongst others was a gigantic skeleton, quite
entire, with an iron girdle round the middle. Fragments of mortality
were elsewhere scattered about, showing the numbers who had perished in
the place. On either side were cells closed by massive doors, secured by
bolts and locks. At one end were three immense coffers made of oak,
hooped with iron, and fastened by large padlocks. Near them stood a
large armoury, likewise of oak, and sculptured with the ensigns of
Whalley Abbey, proving it had once belonged to that establishment.
Probably it had been carried off by some robber band. At the opposite
end of the vault were two niches, each occupied by a rough-hewn
statue--the one representing a warlike figure, with a visage of
extraordinary ferocity, and the other an anchoress, in her hood and
wimple, with a rosary in her hand. On the ground beneath lay a plain
flag, covering the mortal remains of the wicked pair, and proclaiming
them to be Isole de Heton and Blackburn, the freebooter. The pillars
were ranged in three lines, so as to form, with the arches above them, a
series of short passages, in the midst of which stood an altar, and near
it a large caldron. In front, elevated on a block of granite, was a
marvellous piece of sculpture, wrought in jet, and representing a demon
seated on a throne. The visage was human, but the beard that of a goat,
while the feet and lower limbs were like those of the same animal. Two
curled horns grew behind the ears, and a third, shaped like a conch,
sprang from the centre of the forehead, from which burst a blue flame,
throwing a ghastly light on the objects surrounding it.

The only discernible approach to the vault was a steep narrow stone
staircase, closed at the top by a heavy trapdoor. Other outlet
apparently there was none. Some little air was admitted to this foul
abode through flues contrived in the walls, the entrances to which were
grated, but the light of day never came there. The flame, however,
issuing from the brow of the demon image, like the lamps in the
sepulchres of the disciples of the Rosy Cross, was ever-burning. Behind
the sable statue was a deep well, with water as black as ink, wherein
swarmed snakes, and toads, and other noxious reptiles; and as the lurid
light fell upon its surface it glittered like a dusky mirror, unless
when broken by the horrible things that lurked beneath, or crawled about
upon its slimy brim. But snakes and toads were not the only tenants of
the vault. At the head of the steps squatted a monstrous and misshapen
animal, bearing some resemblance to a cat, but as big as a tiger. Its
skin was black and shaggy; its eyes glowed like those of the hyæna; and
its cry was like that of the same treacherous beast. Among the gloomy
colonnades other swart and bestial shapes could be indistinctly seen
moving to and fro.

In this abode of horror were two human beings--one, a young maiden of
exquisite beauty; and the other, almost a child, and strangely deformed.
The elder, overpowered by terror, was clinging to a pillar for support,
while the younger, who might naturally be expected to exhibit the
greatest alarm, appeared wholly unconcerned, and derided her companion's
fears.

"Oh, Jennet!" exclaimed the elder of the two, "is there no means of
escape?"

"None whatever," replied the other. "Yo mun stay here till Granny
Demdike cums fo ye."

"Oh! that the earth would open and snatch me from these horrors," cried
Alizon. "My reason is forsaking me. Would I could kneel and pray for
deliverance! But something prevents me."

"Reet!" replied Jennet. "It's os mitch os yer loife's worth to kneel an
pray here, onless yo choose to ge an throw yersel at th' feet o' yon
black image."

"Kneel to that idol--never!" exclaimed Alizon. And while striving to
call upon heaven for aid, a sharp convulsion seized her, and deprived
her of the power of utterance.

"Ey towd yo how it wad be," remarked Jennet, who watched her narrowly.
"Yo 're neaw i' a church here, an if yo want to warship, it mun be at
yon altar. Dunna yo hear how angry the cats are--how they growl an spit?
An see how their een gliss'n! They'll tare yo i' pieces, loike so many
tigers, if yo offend em."

"Tell me why I am brought here, Jennet?" inquired Alizon, after a brief
pause.

"Granny Demdike will tell yo that," replied the little girl; "boh to my
belief," she added, with a mocking laugh, "hoo means to may a witch o'
ye, loike aw the rest on us."

"She cannot do that without my consent," cried Alizon, "and I would die
a thousand deaths rather than yield it."

"That remains to be seen," replied Jennet, tauntingly. "Yo 're obstinate
enuff, nah doubt. Boh Granny Demdike is used to deal wi' sich folk."

"Oh! why was I born?" cried Alizon, bitterly.

"Yo may weel ask that," responded Jennet, with a loud unfeeling laugh;
"fo ey see neaw great use yo're on, wi' yer protty feace an bright een,
onless it be to may one hate ye."

"Is it possible you can say this to me, Jennet?" cried Alizon. "What
have I done to incur your hatred? I have ever loved you, and striven to
please and serve you. I have always taken your part against others, even
when you were in the wrong. Oh! Jennet, you cannot hate me."

"Boh ey do," replied the little girl, spitefully. "Ey hate yo now warser
than onny wan else. Ey hate yo because yo are neaw lunger my
sister--becose yo 're a grand ledy's dowter, an a grand ledy yersel. Ey
hate yo becose yung Ruchot Assheton loves yo--an becose yo ha better
luck i' aw things than ey have, or con expect to have. That's why I hate
yo, Alizon. When yo are a witch ey shan love yo, for then we shan be
equals once more."

"That will never be, Jennet," said Alizon, sadly, but firmly. "Your
grandmother may immure me in this dungeon, and scare away my senses; but
she will never rob me of my hopes of salvation."

As the words were uttered, a clang like that produced by a stricken gong
shook the vault; the beasts roared fiercely; the black waters of the
fountain bubbled up, and were lashed into foam by the angry reptiles;
and a larger jet of flame than before burst from the brow of the demon
statue.

"Ey ha' warned ye, Alizon," said Jennet, alarmed by these
demonstrations; "boh since ye pay no heed to owt ey say, ey'st leave yo
to yer fate."

"Oh! stay with me, stay with me, Jennet!" shrieked Alizon, "By our past
sisterly affection I implore you to remain! You are some protection to
me from these dreadful beings."

"Ey dunna want to protect yo onless yo do os yo're bidd'n," replied
Jennet! "Whoy should yo be better than me?"

"Ah! why, indeed?" cried Alizon. "Would I had the power to turn your
heart--to open your eyes to evil--to save you, Jennet."

These words were followed by another clang, louder and more brattling
than the first. The solid walls of the dungeon were shaken, and the
heavy columns rocked; while, to Alizon's affrighted gaze, it seemed as
if the sable statue arose upon its ebon throne, and stretched out its
arm menacingly towards her. The poor girl was saved from further terror
by insensibility.

How long she remained in this condition she could not tell, nor did it
appear that any efforts were made to restore her; but when she
recovered, she found herself stretched upon a rude pallet within an
arched recess, the entrance to which was screened by a piece of
tapestry. On lifting it aside she perceived she was no longer in the
vault, but in an upper chamber, as she judged, and not incorrectly, of
the tower. The room was lofty and circular, and the walls of enormous
thickness, as shown by the deep embrasures of the windows; in one of
which, the outlet having been built up, the pallet was placed. A massive
oak table, two or three chairs of antique shape, and a wooden stool,
constituted the furniture of the room. The stool was set near the
fireplace, and beside it stood a strangely-fashioned spinning-wheel,
which had apparently been recently used; but neither the old hag nor her
grand-daughter were visible. Alizon could not tell whether it was night
or day; but a lamp was burning upon the table, its feeble light only
imperfectly illumining the chamber, and scarcely revealing several
strange objects dangling from the huge beams that supported the roof.
Faded arras were hung against the walls, representing in one compartment
the last banquet of Isole de Heton and her lover, Blackburn; in another,
the Saxon Ughtred hanging from the summit of Malkin Tower; and in a
third, the execution of Abbot Paslew. The subjects were as large as
life, admirably depicted, and evidently worked at wondrous looms. As
they swayed to and fro in the gusts, that found entrance into the
chamber through some unprotected loopholes, the figures had a grim and
ghostly air.

Weak, trembling, bewildered, Alizon stepped forth, and staggering
towards the table sank upon a chair beside it. A fearful storm was
raging without--thunder, lightning, deluging rain. Stunned and blinded,
she covered her eyes, and remained thus till the fury of the tempest had
in some degree abated. She was roused at length by a creaking sound not
far from her, and found it proceeded from a trapdoor rising slowly on
its hinges.

A thrum cap first appeared above the level of the floor; then a broad,
bloated face, the mouth and chin fringed with a white beard like the
whiskers of a cat; then a thick, bull throat; then a pair of brawny
shoulders; then a square, thick-set frame; and Mother Demdike stood
before her. A malignant smile played upon her hideous countenance, and
gleamed from her eyes--those eyes so strangely placed by nature, as if
to intimate her doom, and that of her fated race, to whom the horrible
blemish was transmitted. As the old witch leaped heavily upon the
ground, the trapdoor closed behind her.

"Soh, you are better, Alizon, and have quitted your couch, I find," she
cried, striking her staff upon the floor. "But you look faint and feeble
still. I will give you something to revive you. I have a wondrous
cordial in yon closet--a rare restorative--ha! ha! It will make you well
the moment it has passed your lips. I will fetch it at once."

"I will have none of it," replied Alizon; "I would rather die."

"Rather die!" echoed Mother Demdike, sarcastically, "because, forsooth,
you are crossed in love. But you shall have the man of your heart yet,
if you will only follow my counsel, and do as I bid you. Richard
Assheton shall be yours, and with your mother's consent, provided--"

"I understand the condition you annex to the promise," interrupted
Alizon, "and the terms upon which you would fulfil it: but you seek in
vain to tempt me, old woman. I now comprehend why I am brought hither."

"Ay, indeed!" exclaimed the old witch. "And why is it, then, since you
are so quick-witted?"

"You desire to make an offering to the evil being you serve," cried
Alizon, with sudden energy. "You have entered into some dark compact,
which compels you to deliver up a victim in each year to the Fiend, or
your own soul becomes forfeit. Thus you have hitherto lengthened out
your wretched life, and you hope to extend the term yet farther through
me. I have heard this tale before, but I would not believe it. Now I
do. This is why you have stolen me from my mother--have braved her
anger--and brought me to this impious tower."

The old hag laughed hoarsely.

"The tale thou hast heard respecting me is true," she said. "I _have_ a
compact which requires me to make a proselyte to the power I serve
within each year, and if I fail in doing so, I must pay the penalty thou
hast mentioned. A like compact exists between Mistress Nutter and the
Fiend."

She paused for a moment, to watch the effect of her words on Alizon, and
then resumed.

"Thy mother would have sacrificed thee if thou hadst been left with her;
but I have carried thee off, because I conceive I am best entitled to
thee. Thou wert brought up as my grand-daughter, and therefore I claim
thee as my own."

"And you think to deal with me as if I were a puppet in your hands?"
cried Alizon.

"Ay, marry, do I," rejoined Mother Demdike, with a scream of laughter,
"Thou art nothing more than a puppet--a puppet--ho! ho."

"And you deem you can dispose of my soul without my consent?" said
Alizon.

"Thy full consent will be obtained," rejoined the old hag.

"Think it not! think it not!" exclaimed Alizon. "Oh! I shall yet be
delivered from this infernal bondage."

At this moment the notes of a bugle were heard.

"Saved! saved!" cried the poor girl, starting. "It is Richard come to my
rescue!"

"How know'st thou that?" cried Mother Demdike, with a spiteful look.

"By an instinct that never deceives," replied Alizon, as the blast was
again heard.

"This must be stopped," said the hag, waving her staff over the maiden,
and transfixing her where she sat; after which she took up the lamp, and
strode towards the window.

The few words that passed between her and Richard have been already
recounted. Having closed the casement and drawn the curtain before it,
Mother Demdike traced a circle on the floor, muttered a spell, and then,
waving her staff over Alizon, restored her power of speech and motion.

"'Twas he!" exclaimed the young girl, as soon as she could find
utterance. "I heard his voice."

"Why, ay, 'twas he, sure enough," rejoined the beldame. "He has come on
a fool's errand, but he shall never return from it. Does Mistress Nutter
think I will give up my prize the moment I have obtained it, for the
mere asking? Does she imagine she can frighten me as she frightens
others? Does she know whom she has to deal with? If not, I will tell
her. I am the oldest, the boldest, and the strongest of the witches. No
mystery of the black art but is known to me. I can do what mischief I
will, and my desolating hand has been felt throughout this district. You
may trace it like a pestilence. No one has offended me but I have
terribly repaid him. I rule over the land like a queen. I exact
tributes, and, if they are not rendered, I smite with a sharper edge
than the sword. My worship is paid to the Prince of Darkness. This tower
is his temple, and yon subterranean chamber the place where the mystical
rites, which thou wouldst call impious and damnable, are performed.
Countless sabbaths have I attended within it; or upon Rumbles Moor, or
on the summit of Pendle Hill, or within the ruins of Whalley Abbey. Many
proselytes have I made; many unbaptised babes offered up in sacrifice. I
am high-priestess to the Demon, and thy mother would usurp mine office."

"Oh! spare me this horrible recital!" exclaimed Alizon, vainly trying to
shut out the hag's piercing voice.

"I will spare thee nothing," pursued Mother Demdike. "Thy mother, I say,
would be high-priestess in my stead. There are degrees among witches, as
among other sects, and mine is the first. Mistress Nutter would deprive
me of mine office; but not till her hair is as white as mine, her
knowledge equal to mine, and her hatred of mankind as intense as
mine--not till then shall she have it."

"No more of this, in pity!" cried Alizon.

"Often have I aided thy mother in her dark schemes," pursued the
implacable hag; "nay, no later than last night I obliterated the old
boundaries of her land, and erected new marks to serve her. It was a
strong exercise of power; but the command came to me, and I obeyed it.
No other witch could have achieved so much, not even the accursed
Chattox, and she is next to myself. And how does thy mother purpose to
requite me? By thrusting me aside, and stepping into my throne."

"You must be in error," cried Alizon, scarcely knowing what to say.

"My information never fails me," replied the hag, with a disdainful
laugh. "Her plans are made known to me as soon as formed. I have those
about her who keep strict watch upon her actions, and report them
faithfully. I know why she brought thee so suddenly to Rough Lee, though
thou know'st it not."

"She brought me there for safety," remarked the young girl, hoping to
allay the beldame's fury, "and because she herself desired to know how
the survey of the boundaries would end."

"She brought thee there to sacrifice thee to the Fiend!" cried the hag,
infernal rage and malice blazing in her eyes. "She failed in
propitiating him at the meeting in the ruined church of Whalley last
night, when thou thyself wert present, and deliveredst Dorothy Assheton
from the snare in which she was taken. And since then all has gone wrong
with her. Having demanded from her familiar the cause why all things ran
counter, she was told she had failed in the fulfilment of her
promise--that a proselyte was required--and that thou alone wouldst be
accepted."

"I!" exclaimed Alizon, horror-stricken.

"Ay, thou!" cried the hag. "No choice was allowed her, and the offering
must be made to-night. After a long and painful struggle, thy mother
consented."

"Oh! no--impossible! you deceive me," cried the wretched girl.

"I tell thee she consented," rejoined Mother Demdike, coldly; "and on
this she made instant arrangements to return home, and in spite--as thou
know'st--of Sir Ralph and Lady Assheton's efforts to detain her, set
forth with thee."

"All this I know," observed Alizon, sadly--"and intelligence of our
departure from the Abbey was conveyed to you, I conclude, by Jennet, to
whom I bade adieu."

"Thou art right--it was," returned the hag; "but I have yet more to tell
thee, for I will lay the secrets of thy mother's dark breast fully
before thee. Her time is wellnigh run. Thou wert made the price of its
extension. If she fails in offering thee up to-night, and thou art here
in my keeping, the Fiend, her master, will abandon her, and she will be
delivered up to the justice of man."

Alizon covered her face with horror.

After awhile she looked up, and exclaimed, with unutterable anguish--

"And I cannot help her!"

The unpitying hag laughed derisively.

"She cannot be utterly lost," continued the young girl. "Were I near
her, I would show her that heaven is merciful to the greatest sinner who
repents; and teach her how to regain the lost path to salvation."

"Peace!" thundered the witch, shaking her huge hand at her, and stamping
her heavy foot upon the ground. "Such words must not be uttered here.
They are an offence to me. Thy mother has renounced all hopes of heaven.
She has been baptised in the baptism of hell, and branded on the brow by
the red finger of its ruler, and cannot be wrested from him. It is too
late."

"No, no--it never can be too late!" cried Alizon. "It is not even too
late for you."

"Thou know'st not what thou talk'st about, foolish wench," rejoined the
hag. "Our master would tear us instantly in pieces if but a thought of
penitence, as thou callest it, crossed our minds. We are both doomed to
an eternity of torture. But thy mother will go first--ay, first. If she
had yielded thee up to-night, another term would have been allowed her;
but as I hold thee instead, the benefit of the sacrifice will be mine.
But, hist! what was that? The youth again! Alice Nutter must have given
him some potent counter-charm."

"He comes to deliver me," cried Alizon. "Richard!"

And she arose, and would have flown to the window, but Mother Demdike
waved her staff over her, and rooted her to the ground.

"Stay there till I require thee," chuckled the hag, moving, with
ponderous footsteps, to the door.

After parleying with Richard, as already related, Mother Demdike
suddenly returned to Alizon, and, restoring her to sensibility, placed
her hideous face close to her, breathing upon her, and uttering these
words, "Be thine eyes blinded and thy brain confused, so that thou mayst
not know him when thou seest him, but think him another."

The spell took instant effect. Alizon staggered towards the table,
Richard was summoned, and on his appearance the scene took place which
has already been detailed, and which ended in his losing the talisman,
and being ejected from the tower.

Alizon had been rendered invisible by the old witch, and was afterwards
dragged into the arched recess by her, where, snatching the piece of
gold from the young girl's neck, she exclaimed triumphantly--

"Now I defy thee, Alice Nutter. Thou canst never recover thy child. The
offering shall be made to-night, and another year be added to my long
term."

Alizon groaned deeply, but, at a gesture from the hag, she became
motionless and speechless.

A dusky indistinctly-seen figure hovered near the entrance of the
embrasure. Mother Demdike beckoned it to her.

"Convey this girl to the vault, and watch over her," she said. "I will
descend anon."

Upon this the shadowy arms enveloped Alizon, the trapdoor flew open, and
the figure disappeared with its inanimate burthen.

CHAPTER XIII.--THE TWO FAMILIARS.

After seeing Richard depart on his perilous mission to Malkin Tower,
Mistress Nutter retired to her own chamber, and held long and anxious
self-communion. The course of her thoughts may be gathered from the
terrible revelations made by Mother Demdike to Alizon. A prey to the
most agonising emotions, it may be questioned if she could have endured
greater torment if her heart had been consumed by living fire, as in the
punishment assigned to the damned in the fabled halls of Eblis. For the
first time remorse assailed her, and she felt compunction for the evil
she had committed. The whole of her dark career passed in review before
her. The long catalogue of her crimes unfolded itself like a scroll of
flame, and at its foot were written in blazing characters the awful
words, JUDGMENT AND CONDEMNATION! There was no escape--none! Hell, with
its unquenchable fires and unimaginable horrors, yawned to receive her;
and she felt, with anguish and self-reproach not to be described, how
wretched a bargain she had made, and how dearly the brief gratification
of her evil passions had been purchased at the cost of an eternity of
woe and torture.

This change of feeling had been produced by her newly-awakened affection
for her daughter, long supposed dead, and now restored to her, only to
be snatched away again in a manner which added to the sharpness of the
loss. She saw herself the sport of a juggling fiend, whose aim was to
win over her daughter's soul through her instrumentality, and she
resolved, if possible, to defeat his purposes. This, she was aware,
could only be accomplished by her own destruction, but even this dread
alternative she was prepared to embrace. Alizon's sinless nature and
devotion to herself had so wrought upon her, that, though she had at
first resisted the better impulses kindled within her bosom, in the end
they completely overmastered her.

Was it, she asked herself, too late to repent? Was there no way of
breaking her compact? She remembered to have read of a young man who had
signed away his own soul, being restored to heaven by the intercession
of the great reformer of the church, Martin Luther. But, on the other
hand, she had heard of many others, who, on the slightest manifestation
of penitence, had been rent in pieces by the Fiend. Still the idea
recurred to her. Might not her daughter, armed with perfect purity and
holiness, with a soul free from stain as an unspotted mirror; might not
she, who had avouched herself ready to risk all for her--for she had
overheard her declaration to Richard;--might not she be able to work out
her salvation? Would confession of her sins and voluntary submission to
earthly justice save her? Alas!--no. She was without hope. She had an
inexorable master to deal with, who would grant her no grace, except
upon conditions she would not assent to.

She would have thrown herself on her knees, but they refused to bend.
She would have prayed, but the words turned to blasphemies. She would
have wept, but the fountains of tears were dry. The witch could never
weep.

Then came despair and frenzy, and, like furies, lashed her with whips of
scorpions, goading her with the memory of her abominations and
idolatries, and her infinite and varied iniquities. They showed her, as
in a swiftly-fleeting vision, all who had suffered wrong by her, or whom
her malice had afflicted in body or estate. They mocked her with a
glimpse of the paradise she had forfeited. She saw her daughter in a
beatified state about to enter its golden portals, and would have clung
to her robes in the hope of being carried in with her, but she was
driven away by an angel with a flaming sword, who cried out, "Thou hast
abjured heaven, and heaven rejects thee. Satan's brand is upon thy brow
and, unless it be effaced, thou canst never enter here. Down to Tophet,
thou witch!" Then she implored her daughter to touch her brow with the
tip of her finger; and, as the latter was about to comply, a dark
demoniacal shape suddenly rose, and, seizing her by the hair, plunged
with her down--down--millions of miles--till she beheld a world of fire
appear beneath her, consisting of a multitude of volcanoes, roaring and
raging like furnaces, boiling over with redhot lava, and casting forth
huge burning stones. In each of these beds of fire thousands upon
thousands of sufferers were writhing, and their groans and lamentations
arose in one frightful, incessant wail, too terrible for human hearing.

Over this place of torment the demon held her suspended. She shrieked
aloud in her agony, and, shaking off the oppression, rejoiced to find
the vision had been caused by her own distempered imagination.

Meanwhile, the storm, which had obstructed Richard as he climbed the
hill, had come on, though Mistress Nutter had not noticed it; but now a
loud peal of thunder shook the room, and rousing herself she walked to
the window. The sight she beheld increased her alarm. Heavy
thunder-clouds rested upon the hill-side, and seemed ready to discharge
their artillery upon the course which she knew must be taken by the
young man.

The chamber in which she stood, it has been said, was large and gloomy,
with a wainscoting of dark oak. On one of the panels was painted a
picture of herself in her days of youth, innocence, and beauty; and on
another, a portrait of her unfortunate husband, who appeared a handsome
young man, with a stern countenance, attired in a black velvet doublet
and cloak, of the fashion of Elizabeth's day. Between these paintings
stood a carved oak bedstead, with a high tester and dark heavy drapery,
opposite which was a wide window, occupying almost the whole length of
the room, but darkened by thick bars and glass, crowded with armorial
bearings, or otherwise deeply dyed. The high mantelpiece and its
carvings have been previously described, as well as the bloody
hearthstone, where the tragical incident occurred connected with
Alizon's early history.

As Mistress Nutter returned to the fireplace, a plaintive cry arose from
it, and starting--for the sound revived terrible memories within her
breast--she beheld the ineffaceable stains upon the flag traced out by
blue phosphoric fire, while above them hovered the shape of a bleeding
infant. Horror-stricken, she averted her gaze, but it encountered
another object, equally appalling--her husband's portrait; or rather,
it would seem, a phantom in its place; for the eyes, lighted up by
infernal fire, glared at her from beneath the frowning and contracted
brows, while the hand significantly pointed to the hearthstone, on which
the sanguinary stains had now formed themselves into the fatal word
"VENGEANCE!"

In a few minutes the fiery characters died away, and the portrait
resumed its wonted expression; but ere Mistress Nutter had recovered
from her terror the back of the fireplace opened, and a tall swarthy man
stepped out from it. As he appeared, a flash of lightning illumined the
chamber, and revealed his fiendish countenance. On seeing him, the lady
immediately regained her courage, and addressed him in a haughty and
commanding tone--

"Why this intrusion? I did not summon thee, and do not require thee."

"You are mistaken, madam," he replied; "you had never more occasion for
me than at this moment; and, so far from intruding upon you, I have
avoided coming near you, even though enjoined to do so by my lord. He is
perfectly aware of the change which has just taken place in your
opinions, and the anxiety you now feel to break the contract you have
entered into with him, and which he has scrupulously fulfilled on his
part; but he wishes you distinctly to understand, that he has no
intention of abandoning his claims upon you, but will most assuredly
enforce them at the proper time. I need not remind you that your term
draws to a close, and ere many months must expire; but means of
extending it have been offered you, if you choose to avail yourself of
them."

"I have no such intention," replied Mistress Nutter, in a decided tone.

"So be it, madam," replied the other; "but you will not preserve your
daughter, who is in the hands of a tried and faithful servant of my
lord, and what you hesitate to do that servant will perform, and so reap
the benefit of the sacrifice."

"Not so," rejoined Mistress Nutter.

"I say yea," retorted the familiar.

"Thou art my slave, I command thee to bring Alizon hither at once."

The familiar shook his head.

"Thou refusest!" cried Mistress Nutter, menacingly.

"Knows't thou not I have the means of chastising thee?"

"You had, madam," replied the other; "but the moment a thought of
penitence crossed your breast, the power you were invested with
departed. My lord, however, is willing to give you an hour of grace,
when, if you voluntarily renew your oaths to him, he will accept them,
and place me at your disposal once more; but if you still continue
obstinate--"

"He will abandon me," interrupted Mistress Nutter; "I knew it. Fool
that I was to trust one who, from the beginning, has been a deceiver."

"You have a short memory, and but little gratitude, madam and seem
entirely to forget the important favour conferred upon you last night.
At your solicitation, the boundaries of your property were changed, and
large slips of land filched from another, to be given to you. But if you
fail in your duty, you cannot expect this to continue. The boundary
marks will be set up in their old places, and the land restored to its
rightful owner."

"I expected as much," observed Mistress Nutter, disdainfully.

"Thus all our pains will be thrown away," pursued the familiar; "and
though you may make light of the labour, it is no easy task to change
the face of a whole country--to turn streams from their course, move
bogs, transplant trees, and shift houses, all of which has been done,
and will now have to be undone, because of your inconstancy. I, myself,
have been obliged to act as many parts as a poor player to please you,
and now you dismiss me at a moment's notice, as if I had played them
indifferently, whereas the most fastidious audience would have been
ravished with my performance. This morning I was the reeve of the
forest, and as such obliged to assume the shape of a rascally attorney.
I felt it a degradation, I assure you. Nor was I better pleased when you
compelled me to put on the likeness of old Roger Nowell; for, whatever
you may think, I am not so entirely destitute of personal vanity as to
prefer either of their figures to my own. However, I showed no
disinclination to oblige you. You are strangely unreasonable to-day. Is
it my lord's fault if your desire of vengeance expires in its
fruition--if, when you have accomplished an object, you no longer care
for it? You ask for revenge--for power. You have them, and cast them
aside like childish baubles!"

"Thy lord is an arch deceiver," rejoined Mistress Nutter; "and cannot
perform his promises. They are empty delusions--profitless,
unsubstantial as shadows. His power prevails not against any thing holy,
as I myself have just now experienced. His money turns to withered
leaves; his treasures are dust and ashes. Strong only is he in power of
mischief, and even his mischief, like curses, recoils on those who use
it. His vengeance is no true vengeance, for it troubles the conscience,
and engenders remorse; whereas the servant of heaven heaps coals of fire
on the head of his adversary by kindness, and satisfies his own heart."

"You should have thought of all this before you vowed yourself to him,"
said the familiar; "it is too late to reflect now."

"Perchance not," rejoined Mistress Nutter.

"Beware!" thundered the demon, with a terrible gesture; "any overt act
of disobedience, and your limbs shall be scattered over this chamber."

"If I do not dare thee to it, it is not because I fear thee," replied
Mistress Nutter, in no way dismayed by the threat. "Thou canst not
control my tongue. Thou speakest of the services rendered by thy lord,
and I repeat they are like his promises, naught. Show me the witch he
has enriched. Of what profit is her worship of the false deity--of what
avail the sacrifices she makes at his foul altars? It is ever the same
spilling of blood, ever the same working of mischief. The wheels Of
crime roll on like the car of the Indian idol, crushing all before them.
Doth thy master ever help his servants in their need? Doth he not ever
abandon them when they are no longer useful, and can win him no more
proselytes? Miserable servants--miserable master! Look at the murtherous
Demdike and the malignant Chattox, and examine the means whereby they
have prolonged their baleful career. Enormities of all kinds committed,
and all their families devoted to the Fiend--all wizards or witches!
Look at them, I say. What profit to them is their long service? Are they
rich? Are they in possession of unfading youth and beauty? Are they
splendidly lodged? Have they all they desire? No!--the one dwells in a
solitary turret, and the other in a wretched hovel; and both are
miserable creatures, living only on the dole wrung by threats from
terrified peasants, and capable of no gratification but such as results
from practices of malice."

"Is that nothing?" asked the familiar. "To them it is every thing. They
care neither for splendid mansions, nor wealth, nor youth, nor beauty.
If they did, they could have them all. They care only for the dread and
mysterious power they possess, to be able to fascinate with a glance, to
transfix by a gesture, to inflict strange ailments by a word, and to
kill by a curse. This is the privilege they seek, and this privilege
they enjoy."

"And what is the end of it all?" demanded Mistress Nutter, sternly.
"Erelong, they will be unable to furnish victims to their insatiate
master, who will then abandon them. Their bodies will go to the hangman,
and their souls to endless bale!"

The familiar laughed as if a good joke had been repeated to him, and
rubbed his hands gleefully.

"Very true," he said; "very true. You have stated the case exactly,
madam. Such will certainly be the course of events. But what of that?
The old hags will have enjoyed a long term--much longer than might have
been anticipated. Mother Demdike, however, as I have intimated, will
extend hers, and it is fortunate for her she is enabled to do so, as it
would otherwise expire an hour after midnight, and could not be
renewed."

"Thou liest!" cried Mistress Nutter--"liest like thy lord, who is the
father of lies. My innocent child can never be offered up at his impious
shrine. I have no fear for her. Neither he, nor Mother Demdike, nor any
of the accursed sisterhood, can harm her. Her goodness will cover her
like armour, which no evil can penetrate. Let him wreak his vengeance,
if he will, on me. Let him treat me as a slave who has cast off his
yoke. Let him abridge the scanty time allotted me, and bear me hence to
his burning kingdom; but injure my child, he cannot--shall not!"

"Go to Malkin Tower at midnight, and thou wilt see," replied the
familiar, with a mocking laugh.

"I will go there, but it shall be to deliver her," rejoined Mistress
Nutter. "And now get thee gone! I need thee no more."

"Be not deceived, proud woman," said the familiar. "Once dismissed, I
may not be recalled, while thou wilt be wholly unable to defend thyself
against thy enemies."

"I care not," she rejoined; "begone!"

The familiar stepped back, and, stamping upon the hearthstone, it sank
like a trapdoor, and he disappeared beneath it, a flash of lightning
playing round his dusky figure.

Notwithstanding her vaunted resolution, and the boldness with which she
had comported herself before the familiar, Mistress Nutter now
completely gave way, and for awhile abandoned herself to despair.
Aroused at length by the absolute necessity of action, she again walked
to the window and looked forth. The storm still raged furiously
without--so furiously, indeed, that it would be madness to brave it, now
that she was deprived of her power, and reduced to the ordinary level of
humanity. Its very violence, however, assured her it must soon cease,
and she would then set out for Malkin Tower. But what chance had she now
in a struggle with the old hag, with all the energies of hell at her
command?--what hope was there of her being able to effect her daughter's
liberation? No matter, however desperate, the attempt should be made.
Meanwhile, it would be necessary so see what was going on below, and
ascertain whether Blackadder had returned with Parson Holden. With this
view, she descended to the hall, where she found Nicholas Assheton fast
asleep in a great arm-chair, and rocked rather than disturbed by the
loud concussions of thunder. The squire was, no doubt, overcome by the
fatigues of the day, or it might be by the potency of the wine he had
swallowed, for an empty flask stood on the table beside him. Mistress
Nutter did not awaken him, but proceeded to the chamber where she had
left Nowell and Potts prisoners, both of whom rose on her entrance.

"Be seated, gentlemen, I pray you," she said, courteously. "I am come to
see if you need any thing; for when this fearful storm abates, I am
going forth for a short time."

"Indeed, madam," replied Potts. "For myself I require nothing further;
but perhaps another bottle of wine might be agreeable to my honoured and
singular good client."

"Speak for yourself, sir," cried Roger Nowell, sharply.

"You shall have it," interposed Mistress Nutter. "I shall be glad of a
word with you before I go, Master Nowell. I am sorry this dispute has
arisen between us."

"Humph!" exclaimed the magistrate.

"Very sorry," pursued Mistress Nutter; "and I wish to make every
reparation in my power."

"Reparation, madam!" cried Nowell. "Give back the land you have stolen
from me--restore the boundary lines--sign the deed in Sir Ralph's
possession--that is the only reparation you can make."

"I will," replied Mistress Nutter.

"You will!" exclaimed Nowell. "Then the fellow did not deceive us,
Master Potts."

"Has any one been with you?" asked the lady, uneasily.

"Ay, the reeve of the forest," replied Nowell. "He told us you would be
with us presently, and would make fair offers to us."

"And he told us also _why_ you would make them, madam," added Potts, in
an insolent and menacing tone; "he told us you would make a merit of
doing what you could not help--that your power had gone from you--that
your works of darkness would be destroyed--and that, in a word, you were
abandoned by the devil, your master."

"He deceived you," replied Mistress Nutter. "I have made you the offer
out of pure good-will, and you can reject it or not, as you please. All
I stipulate, if you do accept it, is, that you pledge me your word not
to bring any charge of witchcraft against me."

"Do not give the pledge," whispered a voice in the ear of the
magistrate.

"Did you speak?" he said, turning to Potts.

"No, sir," replied the attorney, in a low tone; "but I thought you
cautioned me against--"

"Hush!" interrupted Nowell; "it must be the reeve. We cannot comply with
your request, madam," he added, aloud.

"Certainly not," said Potts. "We can make no bargain with an avowed
witch. We should gain nothing by it; on the contrary, we should be
losers, for we have the positive assurance of a gentleman whom we
believe to be upon terms of intimacy with a certain black gentleman of
your acquaintance, madam, that the latter has given you up entirely, and
that law and justice may, therefore, take their course. We protest
against our unlawful detention; but we give ourselves small concern
about it, as Sir Ralph Assheton, who will be advised of our situation by
Parson Holden, will speedily come to our liberation."

"Yes, we are now quite easy on that score, madam," added Nowell; "and
to-morrow we shall have the pleasure of escorting you to Lancaster
Castle."

"And your trial will come on at the next assizes, about the middle of
August," said Potts, "You have only four months to run."

"That is indeed my term," muttered the lady. "I shall not tarry to
listen to your taunts," she added, aloud. "You may possibly regret
rejecting my proposal."

So saying, she quitted the room.

As she returned to the hall, Nicholas awoke.

"What a devil of a storm!" he exclaimed, stretching himself and rubbing
his eyes. "Zounds! that flash of lightning was enough to blind me, and
the thunder wellnigh splits one's ears."

"Yet you have slept through louder peals, Nicholas," said Mistress
Nutter, coming up to him. "Richard has not returned from his mission,
and I must go myself to Malkin Tower. In my absence, I must entrust you
with the defence of my house."

"I am willing to undertake it," replied Nicholas, "provided no
witchcraft be used."

"Nay, you need not fear that," said the lady, with a forced smile.

"Well, then, leave it to me," said the squire; "but you will not set out
till the storm is over?"

"I must," replied Mistress Nutter; "there seems no likelihood of its
cessation, and each moment is fraught with peril to Alizon. If aught
happens to me, Nicholas--if I should--whatever mischance may befall
me--promise me you will stand by her."

The squire gave the required promise.

"Enough, I hold you to your word," said Mistress Nutter. "Take this
parchment. It is a deed of gift, assigning this mansion and all my
estates to her. Under certain circumstances you will produce it."

"What circumstances? I am at a loss to understand you, madam," said the
squire.

"Do not question me further, but take especial care of the deed, and
produce it, as I have said, at the fitting moment. You will know when
that arrives. Ha! I am wanted."

The latter exclamation had been occasioned by the appearance of an old
woman at the further end of the hall, beckoning to her. On seeing her,
Mistress Nutter immediately quitted the squire, and followed her into a
small chamber opening from this part of the hall, and into which she
retreated.

"What brings you here, Mother Chattox?" exclaimed the lady, closing the
door.

"Can you not guess?" replied the hag. "I am come to help you, not for
any love I bear you, but to avenge myself on old Demdike. Do not
interrupt me. My familiar, Fancy, has told me all. I know how you are
circumstanced. I know Alizon is in old Demdike's clutches, and you are
unable to extricate her. But I can, and will; because if the hateful old
hag fails in offering up her sacrifice before the first hour of day, her
term will be out, and I shall be rid of her, and reign in her stead.
To-morrow she will be on her way to Lancaster Castle. Ha! ha! The
dungeon is prepared for her--the stake driven into the ground--the
fagots heaped around it. The torch has only to be lighted. Ho! Ho!"

[Illustration: THE RIDE THROUGH THE MURKY AIR.]

"Shall we go to Malkin Tower?" asked Mistress Nutter, shuddering.

"No; to the summit of Pendle Hill," rejoined Mother Chattox; "for there
the girl will be taken, and there only can we secure her. But first we
must proceed to my hut, and make some preparations. I have three scalps
and eight teeth, taken from a grave in Goldshaw churchyard this very
day. We can make a charm with them."

"You must prepare it alone," said Mistress Nutter; "I can have nought to
do with it."

"True--true--I had forgotten," cried the hag, with a chuckling
laugh--"you are no longer one of us. Well, then, I will do it alone. But
come with me. You will not object to mount upon my broomstick. It is the
only safe conveyance in this storm of the devil's raising. Come--away!"

And she threw open the window and sprang forth, followed by Mistress
Nutter.

Through the murky air, and borne as if on the wings of the wind, two
dark forms are flying swiftly. Over the tops of the tempest-shaken trees
they go, and as they gain the skirts of the thicket an oak beneath is
shivered by a thunderbolt. They hear the fearful crash, and see the
splinters fly far and wide; and the foremost of the two, who, with her
skinny arm extended, seems to direct their course, utters a wild scream
of laughter, while a raven, speeding on broad black wing before them,
croaks hoarsely. Now the torrent rages below, and they see its white
waters tumbling over a ledge of rock; now they pass over the brow of a
hill; now skim over a dreary waste and dangerous morass. Fearful it is
to behold those two flying figures, as the lightning shows them,
bestriding their fantastical steed; the one an old hag with hideous
lineaments and distorted person, and the other a proud dame, still
beautiful, though no longer young, pale as death, and her loose jetty
hair streaming like a meteor in the breeze.

The ride is over, and they alight near the door of a solitary hovel. The
raven has preceded them, and, perched on the chimney top, flies down it
as they enter, and greets them with hoarse croaking. The inside of the
hut corresponds with its miserable exterior, consisting only of two
rooms, in one of which is a wretched pallet; in the other are a couple
of large chests, a crazy table, a bench, a three-legged stool, and a
spinning-wheel. A caldron is suspended above a peat fire, smouldering on
the hearth. There is only one window, and a thick curtain is drawn
across it, to secure the inmate of the hut from prying eyes.

Mother Chattox closes and bars the door, and, motioning Mistress Nutter
to seat herself upon the stool, kneels down near the hearth, and blows
the turf into a flame, the raven helping her, by flapping his big black
wings, and uttering a variety of strange sounds, as the sparks fly
about. Heaping on more turf, and shifting the caldron, so that it may
receive the full influence of the flame, the hag proceeds to one of the
chests, and takes out sundry small matters, which she places one by one
with great care on the table. The raven has now fixed his great talons
on her shoulder, and chuckles and croaks in her ear as she pursues her
occupation. Suddenly a piece of bone attracts his attention, and darting
out his beak, he seizes it, and hops away.

"Give me that scalp, thou mischievous imp!" cries the hag, "I need it
for the charm I am about to prepare. Give it me, I say!"

But the raven still held it fast, and hopped here and there so nimbly
that she was unable to catch him. At length, when he had exhausted her
patience, he alighted on Mistress Nutter's shoulder, and dropped it into
her lap. Engrossed by her own painful thoughts, the lady had paid no
attention to what was passing, and she shuddered as she took up the
fragment of mortality, and placed it upon the table. A few tufts of
hair, the texture of which showed they had belonged to a female, still
adhered to the scalp. Mistress Nutter regarded it fixedly, and with an
interest for which she could not account.

After sharply chiding the raven, Mother Chattox put forth her hand to
grasp the prize she had been robbed of, when Mistress Nutter checked her
by observing, "You said you got this scalp from Goldshaw churchyard.
Know you ought concerning it?"

"Ay, a good deal," replied the old woman, chuckling. "It comes from a
grave near the yew-tree, and not far from Abbot Cliderhow's cross. Old
Zachariah Worms, the sexton, digged it up for me. That yellow skull had
once a fair face attached to it, and those few dull tufts were once
bright flowing tresses. She who owned them died young; but, young as she
was, she survived all her beauty. Hollow cheeks and hollow eyes, wasted
flesh, and cruel cough, were hers--and she pined and pined away. Folks
said she was forespoken, and that I had done it. I, forsooth! She had
never done me harm. You know whether I was rightly accused, madam."

"Take it away," cried Mistress Nutter, hurriedly, and as if struggling
against some overmastering feeling. "I cannot bear to look at it. I
wanted not this horrible reminder of my crimes."

"This was the reason, then, why Ralph stole the scalp from me," muttered
the hag, as she threw it, together with some other matters, into the
caldron. "He wanted to show you his sagacity. I might have guessed as
much."

"I will go into the other room while you make your preparations," said
Mistress Nutter, rising; "the sight of them disturbs me. You can summon
me when you are ready."

"I will, madam," replied the old hag, "and you must control your
impatience, for the spell requires time for its confection."

Mistress Nutter made no reply, but, walking into the inner room, closed
the door, and threw herself upon the pallet. Here, despite her anxiety,
sleep stole upon her, and though her dreams were troubled, she did not
awake till Mother Chattox stood beside her.

"Have I slept long?" she inquired.

"More than three hours," replied the hag.

"Three hours!" exclaimed Mistress Nutter. "Why did you not wake me
before? You would have saved me from terrible dreams. We are not too
late?"

"No, no," replied Mother Chattox; "there is plenty of time. Come into
the other room. All is ready."

As Mistress Nutter followed the old hag into the adjoining room, a
strong odour, arising from a chafing-dish, in which herbs, roots, and
other ingredients were burning, assailed her, and, versed in all weird
ceremonials, she knew that a powerful suffumigation had been made,
though with what intent she had yet to learn. The scanty furniture had
been cleared away, and a circle was described on the clay floor by
skulls and bones, alternated by dried toads, adders, and other reptiles.
In the midst of this magical circle, the caldron, which had been brought
from the chimney, was placed, and, the lid being removed, a thick vapour
arose from it. Mistress Nutter looked around for the raven, but the bird
was nowhere to be seen, nor did any other living thing appear to be
present beside themselves.

Taking the lady's hand, Mother Chattox drew her into the circle, and
began to mutter a spell; after which, still maintaining her hold of her
companion, she bade her look into the caldron, and declare what she saw.

"I see nothing," replied the lady, after she had gazed upon the bubbling
waters for a few moments. "Ah! yes--I discern certain figures, but they
are confused by the steam, and broken by the agitation of the water."

"Caldron--cease boiling! and smoke--disperse!" cried Mother Chattox,
stamping her foot. "Now, can you see more plainly?"

"I can," replied Mistress Nutter; "I behold the subterranean chamber
beneath Malkin Tower, with its nine ponderous columns, its altar in the
midst of them, its demon image, and the well with waters black as Lethe
beside it."

"The water within the caldron came from that well," said Mother Chattox,
with a chuckling laugh; "my familiar risked his liberty to bring it, but
he succeeded. Ha! ha! My precious Fancy, thou art the best of servants,
and shalt have my best blood to reward thee to-morrow--thou shalt, my
sweetheart, my chuck, my dandyprat. But hie thee back to Malkin Tower,
and contrive that this lady may hear, as well as see, all that passes.
Away!"

Mistress Nutter concluded that the injunction would be obeyed; but, as
the familiar was invisible to her, she could not detect his departure.

"Do you see no one within the dungeon?" inquired Mother Chattox.

"Ah! yes," exclaimed the lady; "I have at last discovered Alizon. She
was behind one of the pillars. A little girl is with her. It is Jennet
Device, and, from the spiteful looks of the latter, I judge she is
mocking her. Oh! what malice lurks in the breast of that hateful child!
She is a true descendant of Mother Demdike. But Alizon--sweet, patient
Alizon--she seems to bear all her taunts with a meekness and resignation
enough to move the hardest heart. I would weep for her if I could. And
now Jennet shakes her hand at her, and leaves her. She is alone. What
will she do now? Has she no thoughts of escape? Oh, yes! She looks about
her distractedly--runs round the vault--tries the door of every cell:
they are all bolted and barred--there is no outlet--none!"

"What next?" inquired the hag.

"She shrieks aloud," rejoined Mistress Nutter, "and the cry thrills
through every fibre in my frame. She calls upon me for aid--upon me, her
mother, and little thinks I hear her, and am unable to help her. Oh! it
is horrible. Take me to her, good Chattox--take me to her, I implore
you!"

"Impossible!" replied the hag: "you must await the fitting time. If you
cannot control yourself, I shall remove the caldron."

"Oh! no, no," cried the distracted lady. "I will be calm. Ah! what is
this I see?" she added, belying her former words by sudden vehemence,
while rage and astonishment were depicted upon her countenance. "What
infernal delusion is practised upon my child! This is monstrous--
intolerable. Oh! that I could undeceive her--could warn her
of the snare!"

"What is the nature of the delusion?" asked Mother Chattox, with some
curiosity. "I am so blind I cannot see the figures on the water."

"It is an evil spirit in my likeness," replied Mistress Nutter.

"In your likeness!" exclaimed the hag. "A cunning device--and worthy of
old Demdike--ho! ho!"

"I can scarce bear to look on," cried Mistress Nutter; "but I must,
though it tears my heart in pieces to witness such cruelty. The poor
girl has rushed to her false parent--has thrown her arms around her, and
is weeping on her shoulder. Oh! it is a maddening sight. But it is
nothing to what follows. The temptress, with the subtlety of the old
serpent, is pouring lies into her ear, telling her they both are
captives, and both will perish unless she consents to purchase their
deliverance at the price of her soul, and she offers her a bond to
sign--such a bond as, alas! thou and I, Chattox, have signed. But Alizon
rejects it with horror, and gazes at her false mother as if she
suspected the delusion. But the temptress is not to be beaten thus. She
renews her entreaties, casts herself on the ground, and clasps my
child's knees in humblest supplication. Oh! that Alizon would place her
foot upon her neck and crush her. But it is not so the good act. She
raises her, and tells her she will willingly die for her; but her soul
was given to her by her Creator, and must be returned to him. Oh! that I
had thought of this."

"And what answer makes the spirit?" asked the witch.

"It laughs derisively," replied Mistress Nutter; "and proceeds to use
all those sophistical arguments, which we have so often heard, to
pervert her mind, and overthrow her principles. But Alizon is proof
against them all. Religion and virtue support her, and make her more
than a match for her opponent. Equally vain are the spirit's attempts to
seduce her by the offer of a life of sinful enjoyment. She rejects it
with angry scorn. Failing in argument and entreaty, the spirit now
endeavours to work upon her fears, and paints, in appalling colours, the
tortures she will have to endure, contrasting them with the delight she
is voluntarily abandoning, with the lover she might espouse, with the
high worldly position she might fill. 'What are worldly joys and honours
compared with those of heaven!' exclaims Alizon; 'I would not exchange
them.' The spirit then, in a vision, shows her her lover, Richard, and
asks her if she can resist his entreaties. The trial is very sore, as
she gazes on that beloved form, seeming, by its passionate gestures, to
implore her to assent, but she is firm, and the vision disappears. The
ordeal is now over. Alizon has triumphed over all their arts. The spirit
in my likeness resumes its fiendish shape, and, with a dreadful menace
against the poor girl, vanishes from her sight."

"Mother Demdike has not done with her yet," observed Chattox.

"You are right," replied Mistress Nutter. "The old hag descends the
staircase leading to the vault, and approaches the miserable captive.
With her there are no supplications--no arguments; but commands and
terrible threats. She is as unsuccessful as her envoy. Alizon has gained
courage and defies her."

"Ha! does she so?" exclaimed Mother Chattox. "I am glad of it."

"The solid floor resounds with the stamping of the enraged witch,"
pursued Mistress Nutter. "She tells Alizon she will take her to Pendle
Hill at midnight, and there offer her up as a sacrifice to the Fiend. My
child replies that she trusts for her deliverance to Heaven--that her
body may be destroyed--that her soul cannot be harmed. Scarcely are the
words uttered than a terrible clangour is heard. The walls of the
dungeon seem breaking down, and the ponderous columns reel. The demon
statue rises on its throne, and a stream of flame issues from its brow.
The doors of the cells burst open, and with the clanking of chains, and
other dismal noises, skeleton shapes stalk forth, from them, each with a
pale blue light above its head. Monstrous beasts, like tiger-cats, with
rough black skins and flaming eyes, are moving about, and looking as if
they would spring upon the captive. Two gravestones are now pushed
aside, and from the cold earth arise the forms of Blackburn, the robber,
and his paramour, the dissolute Isole de Heton. She joins the grisly
throng now approaching the distracted girl, who falls insensible to the
ground."

"Can you see aught more?" asked the hag, as Mistress Nutter still bent
eagerly over the caldron.

"No; the whole chamber is buried in darkness," replied the lady; "I can
see nothing of my poor child. What will become of her?"

"I will question Fancy," replied the hag, throwing some fresh
ingredients into the chafing-dish; and, as the smoke arose, she
vociferated, "Come hither, Fancy; I want thee, my fondling, my sweet.
Come quickly! ha! thou art here."

The familiar was still invisible to Mistress Nutter, but a slight sound
made her aware of his presence.

"And now, my sweet Fancy," pursued the hag, "tell us, if thou canst,
what will be done with Alizon, and what course we must pursue to free
her from old Demdike?"

"At present she is in a state of insensibility," replied a harsh voice,
"and she will be kept in that condition till she is conveyed to the
summit of Pendle Hill. I have already told you it is useless to attempt
to take her from Malkin Tower. It is too well guarded. Your only chance
will be to interrupt the sacrifice."

"But how, my sweet Fancy? how, my little darling?" inquired the hag.

"It is a perplexing question," replied the voice; "for, by showing you
how to obtain possession of the girl, I disobey my lord."

"Ay, but you serve me--you please me, my pretty Fancy," cried the hag.
"You shall quaff your fill of blood on the morrow, if you do this for
me. I want to get rid of my old enemy--to catch her in her own toils--to
send her to a dungeon--to burn her--ha! ha! You must help me, my little
sweetheart."

"I will do all I can," replied the voice; "but Mother Demdike is cunning
and powerful, and high in favour with my lord. You must have mortal aid
as well as mine. The officers of justice must be there to seize her at
the moment when the victim is snatched from her, or she will baffle all
your schemes."

"And how shall we accomplish this?" asked Mother Chattox.

"I will tell you," said Mistress Nutter to the hag. "Let him put on the
form of Richard Assheton, and in that guise hasten to Rough Lee, where
he will find the young man's cousin, Nicholas, to whom he must make
known the dreadful deed about to be enacted on Pendle Hill. Nicholas
will at once engage to interrupt it. He can arm himself with the weapons
of justice by taking with him Roger Nowell, the magistrate, and his
myrmidon, Potts, the attorney, both of whom are detained prisoners in
the house by my orders."

"The scheme promises well, and shall be adopted," replied the hag; "but
suppose Richard himself should appear first on the scene. Dost know
where he is, my sweet Fancy?"

"When I last saw him," replied the voice, "he was lying senseless on the
ground, at the foot of Malkin Tower, having been precipitated from the
doorway by Mother Demdike. You need apprehend no interference from him."

"It is well," replied Mother Chattox. "Then take his form, my pet,
though it is not half as handsome as thy own."

"A black skin and goat-like limbs are to thy taste, I know," replied the
familiar, with a laugh.

"Let me look upon him before he goes, that I may be sure the likeness is
exact," said Mistress Nutter.

"Thou hearest, Fancy! Become visible to her," cried the hag.

And as she spoke, a figure in all respects resembling Richard stood
before them.

"What think you of him? Will he do?" said Mother Chattox.

"Ay," replied the lady; "and now send him off at once. There is no time
to lose."

"I shall be there in the twinkling of an eye," said the familiar; "but I
own I like not the task."

"There is no help for it, my sweet Fancy," cried the hag. "I cannot
forego my triumph over old Demdike. Now, away with thee, and when thou
hast executed thy mission, return and tell us how thou hast sped in the
matter."

The familiar promised obedience to her commands, and disappeared.

CHAPTER XIV.--HOW ROUGH LEE WAS AGAIN BESIEGED.

Parson Holden, it will be remembered, left Rough Lee, charged by Potts
with a message to Sir Ralph Assheton, informing him of his detention and
that of Roger Nowell, by Mistress Nutter, and imploring him to come to