CHAPTER XV.

LANCASTER CASTLE.
Behold the grim and giant fabric, re-built and strengthened by
" Old John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster !" Within one of its turrets called John of Gaunt's Chair, and at even tide, stands a lady under the care of a jailor. It is the last sunset she will ever see — the last time she will look upon the beauties of earth, for she is a prisoner, condemned to die an ignominious and terrible death, and her execution will take place on the morrow. Leaving her alone within the turret, the jailor locks the door and stands outside it. The lady casts a long lingering look around. All nature seems so beau- tiful— so attractive. The sunset upon the broad watery sands of Morecombe Bay is exquisite in varied tints. The fells of Furness look black and bold, and the windings of the Lune are clearly traced out. But she casts a wistful glance towards the moun- tainous ridges of Lancashire, and fancies she can detect amongst the heights the rounded summit of Pen die Hill.
THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 357
Then her gaze settles upon the gray old town beneath her, and as her glance wanders over it, certain terrible objects arrest it. In the area before the Castle she sees a ring of tall stakes. She knows well their purpose, and counts them. They are thirteen in num- ber. Thirteen wretched beings are to be burned on the morrow. Not far from the stakes are an enormous pile of fagots. All is prepared. Fascinated by the sight, she remains gazing at the place of execution for some time, and when she turns, she beholds a tall dark man standing beside her. At first she thinks it is the jailor, and is about to tell the man she is ready to de- scend to her cell, when she recognises him, and recoils in terror.
"Thou here — again!" she cried.
" I can save thee from the stake, if thou wilt, Alice Nutter/' he said.
"Hence!" she exclaimed. "Thou temptest me in vain. Hence !"
And with a howl of rage, the demon disappeared.
Conveyed back to her cell, situated within the dread Dungeon Tower, Alice Nutter passed the whole of that night in prayer. Towards four o'clock, wearied out, she dropped into a slumber, and when the clergyman, from whom she had received spiritual consolation, came to her cell, he found her still sleeping, but with a sweet smile upon her lips, — the first he had ever beheld there.
Unwilling to disturb her, he knelt down, and prayed by her side. At length, the jailor came, and the exe-
358 THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES.
cutioner's aids. The divine then laid his hand upon her shoulder, and she instantly arose.
" I am ready," she said, cheerfully.
" You have had. a happy dream, daughter," he ob- served.
" A blessed dream, reverend sir," she replied. " I thought I saw my children — Richard and Alizon in a fair garden — oh ! how angelic they looked — and they told me I should be with them soon."
" And I doubt not the vision will be realised," re- plied the clergyman. " Your redemption is fully worked out, and your salvation, I trust, secured. And now you must prepare for your last trial."
"I am fully prepared," she replied ; " but will you not go to the others?"
11 Alas ! my dear daughter," he replied, " they all, excepting Nance Redferne, refuse my services, and will perish in their iniquities."
"Then go to her, sir, I entreat of you," she said, " she may yet be saved. But what of Jennet? Is she, too, to die ?'■
"No," replied the divine ; "being evidence against her relatives, her life is spared."
" Heaven grant she do no more mischief \" exclaimed Alice Nutter.
She then submitted herself to the executioner's assist- ants, and was led forth. On issuing into the open air a change came over her, and such an exceeding faint- ness, that she had to be supported. She was led towards the stake in this state ; but she grew fainter
THE LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 359
and fainter, and at last fell back in the arms of the men that supported her. Still, they carried her on. When the executioner put out his hand to receive her from his aids, she was found to be quite dead. Never- theless, he tied her to the stake, and her body was consumed. Hundreds of spectators beheld those ter- rible fires, and exulted in the torments of the miserable sufferers. Their shrieks and blasphemies were terrific, and the place resembled a hell upon earth.
Jennet escaped, to the dismay of Master Potts, who feared she would wreak her threatened vengeance upon him. And, indeed, he did suffer from aches and cramps, which he attributed to her ; but which were more reasonably supposed to be owing to rheum caught in the marshes of Pendle Forest. He had, however, the pleasure of assisting at her execution, when some years afterwards retributive justice overtook her.
Jennet was the last of the Lancashire Witches. Ever since then witchcraft has taken a new form with the ladies of the county, — though their fascination and spells are as potent as ever. Few can now escape them, — few desire to do so. But to all who are afraid of a bright eye and a blooming cheek, and who desire to adhere to a bachelor's condition — to such I should say " Be- ware of the Lancashire Witches !5'
THE END.