CHAPTER II.

THE PENITENT'S KETREAT.

Nicholas and Sherborne returned by a different
road from that taken by the others, and loitered so much
by the way that they did not arrive at the manor-house
until the prisoner and his escort had set out. Probably
this was designed^ as Nicholas seemed relieved when he
learnt they were gone. Having entered the house with
his brother-in-law, and conducted him to an apartment
opening out of the hall, usually occupied by Mistress
Assheton, and where, in fact, they found that amiable
lady employed at her embroidery, he left Sherborne
with her, and making some excuse for his own hasty
retreat, betook himself to another part of the house.

Mounting the principal staircase, which was of dark
oak, with richly-carved railing, he turned into a gallery
communicating with the sleeping apartments, and, after
proceeding more than half way down it, halted before a
door, which he unlocked, and entered a spacious but
evidently disused chamber, hung round with faded ta-
pestry, and containing a large, gloomy-looking bedstead.
Securing the door carefully after him, Nicholas raised

144 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES.

the hangings in one corner of the room, and pressing
against a spring, a sliding panel flew open. A screen
was placed within, so as to hide from view the inmate
of the secret chamber, and Nicholas, having coughed
slightly, to announce his presence, and received an
answer in a low, melancholy female voice, stepped
through the aperture, and stood within a small closet.

It was tenanted by a lady, whose features and figure
bore the strongest marks of affliction. Her person
was so attenuated that she looked little more than a
skeleton — her fingers were long and thin — her cheeks
hollow and deathly pale — her eyes lustreless and deep
sunken in their sockets — and her hair, once jetty as
the raven's wing, prematurely blanched. Such was
the profound gloom stamped upon her countenance,
that it was impossible to look upon her without com-
passion, while, in spite of her wo-begone looks, there
was a noble character about her that elevated the feel-
ing into deep interest, blended with respect. She was
kneeling beside a small desk, with an open Bible laid
upon it, which she was intently studying when the
squire appeared.

" Here is a terrible text for you, Nicholas," she said,
regarding him, mournfully. " Listen to it, and judge
of its effect on me. Thus it is written in Deuteronomy : —
' There shall not be found among you any one that
maketh his son or his daughter to pass through the fire,
or that useth divination, or an observer of times, or an
enchanter, or a witch.' A witch, Nicholas — do you
mark the word ? And yet more particular is the next

THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 145

verse, wherein it is said: — ' Or a charmer, or a consultcr
•with familiar spirits, or a wizard, or a necromancer.5
And then cometh the denunciation of divine anger
against such offenders, in these awful words : — ' For all
that do these things are an abomination unto the Lord:
and because of these abominations, the Lord thy God
doth drive them out from before thee.' Again, it is
said in Leviticus, that ' the Lord setteth his face against
such, to cut them off.' And in Exodus, the law is ex-
pressly laid down thus — ' Thou shalt not suffer a
WITCH TO LIVE.' There is no escape for her, you see.
By the divine command she must perish, and human
justice must carry out the decree. Nicholas, I am
one of the offenders thus denounced, thus condemned.
I have practised witchcraft, consulted with familiar
spirits, and done other abominations in the sight of
heaven ; and I ought to pay the full penalty of my
offences."

" Do not, I beseech you, madam," replied the squire,
" continue to take this view of your case. However you
have sinned, you have made amends by the depth and
sincerity of your repentance. Your days and nights —
for you allow yourself only such rest as nature forces on
you, and take even that most unwillingly — are passed in
constant prayer. Your abstinence is severer than any
anchoress ever practised, for I am sure for the last month
you have not taken as much food altogether as I con-
sume in a day; while, not content with this, you per-
form acts of penance that afflict me beyond measure to
think upon, and which I have striven in vain to induce

VOL. III. L

146 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES.

you to forego. There will be no occasion to deliver
yourself up to justice, madam ; for, if you go on
thus, and do not deal with yourself a little more
mildly, your accounts with this world will be speedily
settled."

" And I should rejoice to think so, Nicholas," re-
plied Mistress Nutter, " if I had any hope in the world
to come. But, alas ! I have none. I cannot, by any
act of penitence and contrition, expiate my offences.
My soul is darkened by despair. I know I ought to
give myself up — that heaven and man alike require my
life, and I cannot reconcile myself to avoiding my just
doom."

"It is the Evil One who puts these thoughts into
your head," replied Nicholas, " and who fills your
heart with promptings of despair that he may again ob-
tain the mastery over it. But take a calmer and more
consolatory view of your condition. Human j ustice may
require a public sacrifice as an example, but Heaven
will be satisfied with contrition in secret."

" I trust so," replied the lady, vainly striving to
draw comfort from his words. 6i Oh, Nicholas ! you
do not know the temptations I am exposed to in this
chamber — the difficulty I experience in keeping my
thoughts fixed on one object — the distractions I undergo
— the mental obscurations — the faintings of spirit —
the bodily prostration — the terrors, the inconceivable
terrors that assail me. Sometimes I wish my spirit
would flee away, and be at rest. Rest ! there is none
for me — none in the grave— -none beyond the grave —

THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 147

and therefore I am afraid of death, and still more of
the judgment after death ! Man might inflict all the
tortures he could devise upon this poor frame. I would
bear them all with patience, with delight, if I thought
they would purchase me immunity hereafter ! But
with the dread conviction, the almost certainty, that it
will be otherwise, I can only look to the final con-
summation with despair !"

" Again I tell you these suggestions are evil," said
Nicholas. " The Son of God, who sacrificed himself
for man, and by whose atonement all mankind hope for
salvation, has assured us that the greatest sinner who
repentsshall be forgiven, and, indeed, is more acceptable
in the eyes of Heaven than him who has never erred.
Far be it from me to attempt to exculpate you in your
own eyes, or extenuate your former criminality. You
have sinned deeply, so deeply that you may well shrink
aghast from the contemplation of your past life — may
well recoil in abhorrence from yourself, — and may fitly
devote yourself to constant prayer and acts of penitence.
But having cast off your iniquity and sincerely repented,
T bid you hope — I bid you place a confident reliance in
the clemency of an all-merciful power."

" You give me much comfort, Nicholas," said the
lady, " and if tears of blood can wash away my sin
they shall be shed ; but much as you know of my wick-
edness, even you cannot conceive its extent. In my
madness, for it was nothing else, I cast off all hopes of
Heaven, renounced my Redeemer, was baptized by the
L2

148 THE LANCASHIKE WITCHES.

demon, and entered into a compact by which — I shud-
der to speak it — my soul was surrendered to him."

" You placed yourself in fearful jeopardy no doubt,"
rejoined Nicholas, u but you have broken the contract
in time, and an all-righteous judge will not permit the
penalty of the bond to be exacted. Seeing your peni-
tence, Satan has relinquished all claim to your soul."

"I do not think it," replied the lady. " He will
contest the point to the last, and it is only at the last
that it will be decided."

As she spoke a sound like mocking laughter reached
the ears of Nicholas.

" Did you hear that ?" demanded Mistress Nutter, in
accents of wildest terror. " He is ever on the watch.
I knew it — I knew it.''

Clasping her hands together, and fixing her looks on
high, she then addressed the most fervent supplications
to Heaven for deliverance from evil, and ere long her
troubled countenance began to resume its former sere-
nity, proving that the surest balm for a " mind dis-
eased" is prayer. Her example had been followed
by Nicholas, who, greatly alarmed, had dropped upon
his knees likewise, and now arose with somewhat more
composure in his demeanour and aspect.

" I am sorry I do not bring you good news, madam,"
he said, " but Jem Device has been arrested this morning,
and as the fellow is greatly exasperated against me, he
threatens to betray your retreat to the officers ; and
though he is, probably, unacquainted with it, notwith-
standing his boasting, still he may cause search to be

THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 149

made, and, therefore, I think you had better be removed
to some other hiding-place."

"Deliver me up without more ado, I pray you,
Nicholas," said the lady.

" You know my resolution on that point, madam,"
he replied, " and, therefore, it is idle to attempt to
shake it. For your daughter's sake, if not for your own,

I will save you, in spite of yourself. You would not
fix a brand for ever on Alizon's name — you would not
destroy her ?"

" I would not," replied the wretched lady. " But
have you heard from her — have you seen her ? Tell me,
is she well and happy?"

" She is well, and would be happy, were it not for
her anxiety about you," replied Nicholas, evasively.

II But for her sake — mine — your own — I must urge you
to seek some other place of refuge to night, for if you are
discovered here you will bring ruin on us~all."

" I will no longer debate the point," replied Mistress
Nutter. ■ ' Where shall I go ?"

" There is one place of absolute security, but I do not
like to mention it," replied Nicholas. " Yet still as it
will only be necessary to remain for a day or two, till
the search is over, when you can return here, it cannot
much matter."

" Where is it?" asked Mistress Nutter.

" Malkin Tower," answered the squire, with some
hesitation.

"I will never go to that accursed place," cried the
lady. " Send me hence, when you will — now, or at

150 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES.

midnight, and let me seek shelter on the bleak fells, or
on the desolate moors, but bid me not go there !"

u And yet it is the best and safest place for you," re-
turned Nicholas, somewhat testily; " and for this reason,
that being reputed to be haunted, no one will venture
to molest you. As to Mother Demdike, I suppose you
are not afraid of her ghost, and if the evil beings you
apprehend were able or inclined to do you mischief,
they would not wait till you got there, to execute their
purpose."

" True," said Mistress Nutter, " I was wrong to hesi-
tate. I will go."

" You will be as safe there as here, ay, and safer,"
rejoined Nicholas, " or I would not urge the retreat
upon you. I am about to ride over to Middle ton this
morning to see your daughter and Richard Assheton,
and shall sleep at Whalley, so that I shall not be able to
accompany you to the tower to-night, but old Crouch, the
huntsman, shall be in waiting for you, as soon as it grows
dusk, in the summer-house, with which, as you know,
the secret staircase connected with this room communi-
cates, and he shall have a horse in readiness to take you,
together with such matters as you may require, to the
place of refuge. Heaven guard you, madam !"

" Amen !" responded the lady.

" And, now, farewell !" said Nicholas. " I shall hope
to see you back again ere many days be gone, when
your quietude will not again be disturbed."

So saying, he stepped back, and passing through the
panel, closed it after him.

THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 151

CHAPTER HI.

MIDDLETON HALL.

Middleton Hall, the residence of Sir Richard
Assheton, was a large quadrangular structure, built en-
tirely of timber, and painted externally in black and
white chequer-work, fanciful and varied in design, in
the style peculiar to the better class of Tudor houses in
South Lancashire and Cheshire. Surrounded by a deep
moat, supplied by a neighbouring stream, and crossed
by four drawbridges, each faced by a gateway, this vast
pile of building was divided into two spacious courts,
one of which contained the stables, barns, and offices,
while the other was reserved for the family and the guests
by whom the hospitable mansion was almost constantly
crowded. In the last-mentioned part of the house was a
great gallery, with deeply embayed windows filled with
painted glass, a floor of polished oak, walls of the same
dark lustrous material, hung with portraits of stiff
beauties, some in ruff and farthingale, and some in a
costume of an earlier period, among whom was Margaret
Barton, who brought the manor of Middleton into the

152 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES.

family; frowning warriors, beginning with Sir Ralph
Assheton, Knight marshal of England in the reign of
Edward IV., and surnamed "the black of Assheton-
under-line," the founder of the house, and husband of
Margaret Barton before mentioned, and ending with
Sir Richard Assheton, grandfather of the present owner
of the mansion, and one of the heroes of Flodden ;
grave lawyers, or graver divines — a likeness running-
through all, and showing they belonged to one line — a
huge carved mantelpiece, massive tables of walnut or
oak, and black and shining as ebony, set round with high-
backed chairs. Here, also, above stairs there were long
corridors looking out through lattices upon the court,
and communicating with the almost countless dormi-
tories, while, on the floor beneath, corresponding pas-
sages led to all the principal chambers, and termi-
nated in the grand entrance hall, the roof of which
being open and intersected by enormous rafters, and
crooks of oak, like the ribs of some " tall ammiral," was
thought from this circumstance, as well as from its
form, to resemble " a ship turned upside down." The
lower beams were elaborately carved and ornamented
with gilded bosses and sculptured images, sustaining
shields emblazoned with the armorial bearings of the
Asshetons. As many as three hundred match-locks, in
good and serviceable condition, were ranged round the
entrance-hall, besides corslets, Almayne rivets, steel
caps, and other accoutrements : this stand of arms having
been collected by Sir Richard's predecessor, during the

THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 153

military muster made in the country in 1574, when he
had raised and equipped a troop of horse for Queen
Elizabeth. Outside the mansion was a garden, charm-
ingly laid out in parterres and walks, and not only car-
ried to the edge of the moat, but continued beyond it
till it reached a high knoll crowned with beech trees.
A crest of tall twisted chimneys, a high roof with
quaintly carved gables, surmounted by many gilt vanes,
may serve to complete the picture of Middleton Hall.

On a lovely summer evening, two young persons of
opposite sexes were seated on a bench placed at the foot
of one of the largest and most umbrageous of the beech
trees crowning the pleasant eminence before mentioned ;
and though differing in aspect and character, the one
being excessively fair, with tresses as light and fleecy as
the clouds above them, and eyes as blue and tender as
the skies, and the other distinguished by great manly
beauty, though in a totally different style ; still there was
a sufficiently strong likeness between them, to proclaim
them brother and sister. Profound melancholy per-
vaded the countenance of the young man, whose hand-
some brow was clouded by care, while the girl, though
sad, seemed so only from sympathy.

They were conversing together in deep and earnest
tones, showing how greatly they were interested, and as
they proceeded many an involuntary sigh was heaved
by Richard Assheton, while a tear more than once
dimmed the brightness of his sister's eyes, and her hand
sought by its gentle pressure to re-assure him.

154 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES.

They were talking of Alizon, of her peculiar and
distressing situation, and of the young man's hopeless
love for her. She was the general theme of their dis-
course, for Richard's sole comfort was in pouring
forth his griefs into his sister's willing ear ; but
new causes of anxiety had been given them by
Nicholas, who had arrived that afternoon, bringing
intelligence of James Device's capture, and of his
threats against Mistress Nutter. The squire had only
just departed, having succeeded in the twofold object
of his visit, which was, firstly, to borrow three hun-
dred pounds from his cousin, and, secondly, to in-
duce him to attend the meeting at Hoghton Tower.
With the first request Richard willingly complied, and
he assented, though with some reluctance, to the second,
provided nothing of serious moment should occur in
the interim. Nicholas tried to rally him on his de-
spondency, endeavouring to convince him all would
come rio-ht in time, and that his mis^ivin^s were cause-
less; but his arguments were ineffectual, and he was
soon compelled to desist. The squire would fain, also,
have seen Alizon, but understanding she always re-
mained secluded in her chamber till even-tide, he did
not press the point. Richard urged him to stay over
the night, alleging the length of the ride, and the
speedy approach of evening, as inducements to him to
remain ; but on this score the squire was resolute, and
having carefully secured the large sum of money he had
obtained beneath his doublet, he mounted his favourite

THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 155

steed, Robin, who seemed as fresh as if lie had not
achieved upwards of thirty miles that morning, and
rode off.

Richard watched him cross the drawbridge, and take
the road towards Rochdale, and after exchanging a fare-
well wave of the hand with him, returned to the hall,
and sought out his sister.

Dorothy was easily persuaded to take a turn in the
garden with her brother, and during their walk he
confided to her all he had heard from Nicholas. Her
alarm at Jem Device's threat was much greater than Iris
own ; and, though she entertained a strong and uncon-
querable aversion to Mistress Nutter, and could not be
brought to believe in the sincerity of her penitence,
still, for Alizon's sake, she dreaded lest any harm should
befal her, and more particularly desired to avoid the
disgrace which would be inflicted by a public execu-
tion. Alizon, she was sure, would not survive such
a catastrophe, and therefore, at all risks, it must be
averted.

Richard did not share, to the same extent, in her
apprehensions, because he had been assured by Nicholas
that Mistress Nutter would be removed to a place of
perfect security, and because he was disposed, with the
squire, to regard the prisoner's threats as mere ravings of
impotent malice. Still he could not help feeling great
uneasiness. Vague fears, too, beset him, which he found
it in vain to shake off, but he did not communicate them
to his sister, as he knew the terrifying effect they would

156 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES.

have upon her timid nature ; and he, therefore, kept the
mental anguish he endured to himself, hoping ere long
it would diminish in intensity. But in this he was
deceived, for, instead of abating, his gloom and depres-
sion momently increased.

Almost unconsciously, Richard and his sister had
quitted the garden, proceeding with slow and melan-
choly steps to the beech- crowned knoll. The seat they
had chosen was a favourite one with Alizon, and she
came thither on most evenings, either accompanied by
Dorothy or alone. Here it was that Richard had more
than once passionately besought her to become his
bride, receiving on both occasions a same meek yet firm
refusal. To Dorothy also, who pleaded her brother's
cause with all the eloquence and fervour of which she was
mistress, Alizon replied that her affections were fixed
upon Richard, but that while her mother lived, and
needed her constant prayers, they must not be withheld ;
and that looking upon any earthly passion as a criminal
interference with this paramount duty, she didnot dare
to indulge it. Dorothy represented to her that the
sacrifice was greater than she was called upon to make,
that her health was visibly declining, and that she
might fall a victim to her over-zeal ; but Alizon was
deaf to her remonstrances, as she had been to the
entreaties of Richard.

With hearts less burthened, the contemplation of the
scene before them could not have failed to <nve delight
to Richard and his sister, and even amid the adverse

TIIE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 157

circumstances under which it was viewed its beauty
and tranquillity produced a soothing influence.

Evening was gradually stealing on, and all the exqui-
site tints marking that delightful hour were spreading over
the landscape. The sun was setting gorgeously, and a flood
of radiance fell upon the old mansion beneath them, and
upon the gray and venerable church, situated on a hill
adjoining it. The sounds were all in unison with the
hour, and the lowing of cattle, the voices of the husband-
men returning from their work, mingled with the caw-
ing of the rooks newly alighted on the high trees near
the church, told them that bird, man and beast were
seeking their home for the night. But though Ri-
chard's eye dwelt upon the fair garden beneath him,
embracing all its terraces, green slopes, and trim pas-
tures ; though it fell upon the moat belting the hall
like a glittering zone ; though it rested upon the church
tower ; and roaming over the park beyond it, finally
settled upon the range of hills bounding the horizon,
which have not inaptly been termed the English
Apennines ; though he saw all these things, he thought
not of them, neither was he conscious of the sounds
that met his ear, and which all spoke of rest from
labour, and peace. Darker and deeper grew his melan-
choly. He began to persuade himself he was not
long for this world, and while gazing upon the beautiful
prospect before him, was, perhaps, looking upon it for
the last time.

For some minutes Dorothy watched him anxiously,

158 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES.

and at last receiving no answer to her questions, and
alarmed by the expression of his countenance, she flung
her arms round his neck, and burst into tears. It was
now Richard's turn to console her, and he inquired
with much anxiety, as to the cause of this sudden out-
burst of grief.

" You yourself are the cause of it, dear Richard,"
replied Dorothy, regarding him with brimming eyes, " I
cannot bear to see you so unhappy. If you suffer this
melancholy to grow upon you, it will affect both mind
and body. Just now, your countenance wore an ex-
pression most distressing to look upon. Try to smile,
dear Richard, if only to cheer me, or else I shall
grow as sad as you. Ah, me ! I have known
the day, and not long since either, when on a plea-
sant summer evening like this you would propose
a stroll into the park with me ; and, when there,
would trip along the glades as fleetly as a deer,
and defy me to catch you. But you always took
care I should, though — ha ! ha ! Come, there is a
little attempt at a smile. That's something. You look
more like yourself now. How happy we used to be in
those days, to be sure ! — and how merry ! You would
make the courts ring with your blithe laughter, and
well nigh kill me with your jests. If love is to make
one mope like an owl, and sigh like the wind through
a half- shut casement ; if it is to cause one to lose one's
rosy complexion and gay spirit ; and forget how to
dance and sing — take no pleasure in hawking and

THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 159

bunting, or any kind of sport — walk about with
eyes fixed upon the ground, muttering, and with
disordered attire — if it is to make one silent when one
should be talkative, grave when one should be gay,
heedless when one should listen — if it is to do all this,
defend me from the tender passion ! I hope I shall
never fall in love."

" I hope you never will, dear Dorothy," replied
Richard, pressing her hand affectionately, " if your
love is to be attended with such unhappy results as
mine. I know not how it is, but I feel unusually de-
spondent this evening, and am haunted by a thousand
dismal fancies. But I will do my best to dismiss them,
and with your help, no doubt I shall succeed."

" There ! — there was a smile in earnest !" cried Do-
rothy, brightening up. " Oh, Richard ! I am quite
happy now. And, after all, I do not see why you
should take such a gloomy view of things. I have no
doubt there is a great deal, a very great deal, of happi-
ness in store for you and Alizon — I must couple her name
with your's, or you will not allow it to be happiness — if
you can only be brought to think so. I am quite sure
of it ; and you shall see how nicely I can make the
matter out. As thus. Mistress Nutter is certain to die
soon — such a wicked woman cannot live long. Don't
be angry with me for calling her wicked, Richard, but
you know I never can forget her unhallowed proceed-
ings in the convent church at Whalley, where I was so

160 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES.

nearly becoming a witch myself. Well, as I was saying,
she cannot live long, and when she goes — and Heaven
grant it may be soon ! — Alizon, no doubt, will mourn
for her, though I shall not, and after a decent interval
— then, Richard, then she will no longer say you nay,
but will make you happy as your wife. Nay, do not
look so sad again, dear brother. I thought I should
make you quite cheerful by the picture I was drawing."

"It is because I fear it will never be realised that I
am sad, Dorothy," replied Richard. " My own antici-
pations are the opposite of yours, and paint Alizon
sinking into an early grave before her mother ; while,
as to myself, if such be the case, I shall not long survive
her."

" Nay, now you will make me weep again," cried
Dorothy, her tears flowing afresh. " But I will not
allow you to indulge such gloomy ideas, Richard. If I
seriously thought Mistress Nutter likely to occasion all
this fresh mischief I would cause her to be delivered up
to justice, and hanged out of the way. You may look
cross at me, but I would. What is an old witch like
her, compared with two young, handsome persons,
dying for love of each other, and yet not able to marry
on her account ?"

" Dorothy, Dorothy, you must put some restraint on
your tongue," said Richard ; " you give it sadly too
much licence. You forget it is the wish of the unhappy
lady you refer to, to expiate her offences at the stake,

THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 161

and that it is only out of consideration to her daughter
that she has been induced to remain in concealment.
What will be the issue of it all, 1 dare scarcely con-
jecture. Wo to her, I fear. Wo to Alizon. Wo to
me !"

" Alas ! Richard, that you should link yourself to
her fate !" exclaimed Dorothy, half mournfully, half
reproachfully.

" I cannot help it," he replied. " It is my destiny —
a deplorable destiny, if you will — but not to be avoided.
That Mistress Nutter will escape the consequences of
her crimes, I can scarcely believe. Her penitence is
profound and sincere, and that is a great consolation,
for I trust she will not perish body and soul. I should
wish her to have some spiritual assistance, but this
Nicholas will not for the present permit, alleging that
no churchman would consent to screen her from justice
when he became aware, as he must by her confession,
of the nature and magnitude of her offences. This may
be true, but when the wretches who have been leagued
with her in iniquity are disposed of, the reason will no
longer exist, and I will see that she is cared for. But
apart from her mother, I have another source of anxiety
respecting Alizon. It is this : orders have been this
day given for the arrest of Elizabeth Device, and her
daughter, Jennet, and Alizon will be the chief witness
against them. This will be a great trouble to her."

" Undoubtedly," rejoined Dorothy, with much con-
cern. " But can it not be avoided?"

VOL. III. M

162 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES.

" I fear not," said Richard, " and I blamed Nicholas
much for his precipitancy in giving the order ; but he
replied he had been held up latterly as a favourer of
witches, and must endeavour to redeem his character by
a display of severity. Were it not for Alizon, I should
rejoice that the noxious brood should at last be utterly
exterminated."

" And so should I, in good sooth," responded Dorothy.
" As to Elizabeth Device, she is bad enough for any
thing, and capable of almost any mischief : but she is
nothing to Jennet, who, I am persuaded, would become
a second Mother Demdike, if her career were not cut
short. You have seen the child, and know what an ill-
favoured, deformed little creature she is, with round
high shoulders, eyes set strangely in her face, and such
a malicious expression — oh ! I shudder to think of it."

And she covered her face with her hands, as if to shut
out some unpleasant object.

" Poor predestined child of sin, branded by nature
from her birth, and charged with wicked passions, as
the snake with, venom, I cannot but pity her!" ex-
claimed Richard. " Compassion is entirely thrown
away," he added, with a sudden change of manner, and
as if trying to shake off a weakness. " The poisonous
fruit must, however, be nipped in the bud. Better she
should perish now, even though comparatively guiltless,
than hereafter, with a soul stained with crime, like her
mother."

As he concluded, he put his hand quickly to his side,

THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 163

for a sharp and sudden pang shot through his heart ;
and so acute was the pain that, after struggling against
it for a moment, he groaned deeply, and would have
fallen, if his sister, greatly alarmed, and with difficulty
repressing a scream, had not lent him support.

Neither of them were aware of the presence of a little
girl, who had approached the place where they were
sitting, with footsteps so light that the grass scarcely
seemed to bend beneath them, and who, ensconcing
herself behind the tree, drank in their discourse with
eager ears. She was attended by a large black cat,
who, climbing the tree, placed himself on a bough
above her.

During the latter part of the conversation, and when
it turned upon the arrest of Jennet and her mother, the
expression of the child's countenance, malicious enough
to begin with, became desperately malignant, and she
was only restrained by certain signs from the cat, which
appeared to be intelligible to her, from some act of
mischief. At last, even this failed, and before the animal
could descend and check her, she crept round the bole
of the* tree, so as to bring herself close to Richard,
and muttering a spell, made one or two passes behind
his back, touched him with the point of her finger, but
so lightly that he was unconscious of the pressure,
and then hastily retreated with the cat, who glared
furiously at her from his flaming orbs.

It was at the moment she touched him that Ri-
chard felt as if an arrow were quivering in his heart.

m2

164 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES.

Poor Dorothy's alarm was so great that she could not
even scream for assistance, and she feared if she quitted
her brother he would expire before her return ; but the
agony, though great, was speedily over, and as the spasm
ceased, he looked up, and5 with a faint smile, strove to
re-assure her.

" Do not be alarmed," he said ; (i it is nothing — a
momentary faintness — that is all."

But the damp upon his brow, and the deathly hue
of his cheek, contradicted the assertion, and showed how
much he had endured.

"It was more than momentary faintness, dear
Richard," replied Dorothy. " It was a frightful
seizure — so frightful that I almost feared — but no
matter — you know I am easily alarmed. Thank God !
here is some colour coming into your cheeks. You
are better now, I see. Lean upon me, and let us return
to the house."

" I can walk unassisted, " said Richard, rising with
an effort.

" Do not despise my feeble aid," replied Dorothy,
taking his arm under her own. "You will be quite
well soon."

" I am quite well now," said Richard, halting after he
had advanced a few paces. " The attack is altogether
passed. Do you not see Alizon coining towards us ? Not
a word of this sudden seizure to her. Do you mind,
Dorothy ?"

Alizon was soon close beside them, and though, in

THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 165

obedience to Richard's injunctions, no allusion was
made to his recent illness, she at once perceived he
was suffering greatly, and with much solicitude
inquired into the cause. Richard avoided giving a
direct answer, and immediately entering upon Ni-
cholas's visit, tried to divert her attention from him-
self.

So great a change had been wrought in Alizon's ap-
pearance and manner during the last few weeks that she
could scarcely be recognised. Still beautiful as ever,
her beauty had lost its earthly character, and had
become in the highest degree spiritualised and refined.
Humility of deportment and resignation of look,
blended with an expression of religious fervour, gave
her the appearance of one of the early martyrs. Un-
remitting ardour in the pursuance of her devotional exer-
cises by day, and long vigils at night, had worn clown
her frame, and robbed it of some of its grace and fulness
of outline; but this attenuation had a charm of its own,
and gave a touching interest to her figure, which was
■wanting before. If her cheek was thinner and paler,
her eyes looked larger and brighter, and more akin to
the stars in splendour ; and if she appeared less child-
like, less joyous, less free from care, the want of these
qualities was more than counterbalanced by increased
gentleness, resignation, and serenity.

Deeply interested in all Richard told her of her
mother, she was greatly concerned to hear of the in-
tended arrest of Elizabeth and Jennet Device, espe-

166 THE LANCASHIEE WITCHES.

cially the latter. For this unhappy and misguided
child she had once entertained the affection of a sister,
and it could not but be a source of grief to her to reflect
upon her probable fate.

Little more passed between them, for Richard, feeling
his strength again fail him, was anxious to reach the
house, and Dorothy was quite unequal to conversation.
They parted at the door, and as Alizon, after taking
leave of her friends, turned to continue her walk in the
garden, Richard staggered into the entrance-hall, and
sank upon a chair.

Alizon desired to be alone, for she did not wish to
have a witness to the grief that overpowered her, and
which, when she had gained a retired part of the garden,
where she supposed herself free from all observation,
found relief in a flood of tears.

For some minutes she was a prey to violent and irre-
pressible emotion, and had scarcely regained a show of
composure, when she heard herself addressed, as she
thought, in the voice of the very child whose unlucky
fate she was deploring. Looking round in surprise,
and seeing no one, she began to think fancy must have
cheated her, when a low malicious laugh, arising from a
shrubbery near her, convinced her that Jennet was
hidden there. And the next moment the little girl
stepped from out the trees.

Alizon's first impulse, was to catch the child in her
arms, and press her to her bosom, but there was some-
thing in Jennet's look that deterred her, and so em-

THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 167

barrassed lier, that slie was unable to bestow upon
her the ordinary greeting of affection, or even approach
lier.

Jennet seemed to enjoy her confusion, and laughed
spitefully.

" Yo dunna seem ower glad to see me, sister Alizon,"
said Jennet, at length.

" Sister Alizon I" There was something in the term
that now jarred upon the young girl's ears, but she
strove to conquer the feeling, as unworthy of her.

" She was once my sister," she thought, " and shall
be so still. I will save her, if it be possible. Jennet,"
she added, aloud, " I know not what chance brings you
here, and though I may not give you the welcome
you expect, I am rejoiced to see you, because I may
be the means of serving you. Do not be alarmed at
what I am going to tell you. The danger, I hope, is
passed, or, at all events, may be avoided. Your liberty
is threatened, and at the very moment I see you here I
was lamenting your supposed condition as a prisoner."

Jennet laughed louder and more spitefully than be-
fore, and looked so like a little fury that Alizon's blood
ran cold at the sight of it.

" Ey knoa it aw, sister Alizon," she cried, c; an that is
why ey ha cum'd here. Brother Jem is a pris'ner i'
Whalley Abbey. Mother is a pris'ner theere too. An
ey should ha kept em company, if Tib hadna brought
me off. Now, listen to me, Alizon, fo' this is my bus'ness
wi' yo. Yo mun get mother an Jem out to-neet — eigh,

168 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES.

to-neet. Yo con do it, if yo win. An onless yo do —
boli ey winna threaten till ey s;et yer answer."

" How am I to set them free ?" asked Alizon, greatly
alarmed.

" Yo need only say the word to young Ruchot
Assheton, an the job's done," replied Jennet.

" I refuse — positively refuse to do so/1 rejoined Ali-
zon, indignantly.

" Varry weel," cried Jennet, with a look of concen-
trated malice and fury ; " then tak the consequences.
They win be ta'en to Lonkester Castle, an lose their
lives theere. Boh ye shan go too — ay, an "be brunt os a
witch — a witch — d'ye mark, wench ? eh !"

" I defy your malice !" cried Alizon.

" Defy me !" screamed Jennet. " What, ho ! Tib !"

And at the call the huge black cat sprang from out
the shrubbery.

"Tear her flesh from her bones!" cried the little
girl, pointing to Alizon, and stamping furiously on the
ground.

Tib erected his back, and glared like a tiger, but he
seemed unwilling, or unable to obey the order.

Alizon, who had completely recovered her courage,
regarded him fixedly, and apparently without terror.

" Whoy dusna seize her, an tear her i' pieces ?" cried
the infuriated child.

" He dares not — he has no power over me," said
Alizon. " Oh, Jennet ! cast him off. Your wicked
agent appears to befriend you now, but he will lead

THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 169

you to certain destruction. Come with me, and I will
save you."

" Off!" cried Jennet, repelling her with furious ges-
tures. "Off! ey winna ge wi ye. Ey winna be
saved, os yo term it. Ey hate yo more than ever, an
wad strike yo dead at my feet, if ey could. Boh as ey
conna do it, ey win find some other means o' injurin'
ye. Soh look to yersel, proud ledy — look to yersel ?
Ey ha already smitten you in a place where ye win feel
it sore, an ey win repeat the blow. Ey now leave yo,
boh we shan meet again. Come along, Tib !"

So saying, she sprang into the shrubbery, followed
by the cat, leaving Alizon appalled by her frightful
malignity.

170 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES.