Book 2, Chapter 11, of The Lancashire Witches a romance of Pendle Forest by William Harrison Ainsworth Book 2, Pendle Forest Chapter 11, Mother Demdike The heavy rain which began to fall as Roger Noel entered roughly, 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 Allison. 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. So where's the use of giving advice to a young man who is overhead and is in love? He'll 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'm not much surprised. Allison's beauty is quite irresistible, and we're all smooth and straightforward in her history. There could be no reason why—that was foolish as to let himself. So Ralph Asherton, the proudest man in the show, would disown his son if he married against his inclinations. No, my pretty youthful pair.  I should certainly do so were the case my own. Meanwhile the objects of these ruminations had reached the terrace overlooking penderal water, and were pacing slowly backwards and forwards along it. One might be very happy in this sequestered spot, Allison, 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 can never be realized? 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 of 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 recognized 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 Allison, 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 the 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.  You must never return to roughly again. That is, not unless some change takes place, which I dare not anticipate. But hissed, 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 Janet,� replied Allison, �I see her now.� And she pointed out the little girl, standing beside an alder on the opposite bank. �You did not notice me at all, Allison� cried Janet in her sharp tone, and with her customary, provoking laugh. �Ah, see! Then enough on the edge of your toe! And I heard Mr. Richard say, Would I do this thicket and cross the river to meet you at sunset? Little pigs, they say, are long ears, and man weren't getting me for naught. They have somewhat misinformed you in this instance,� replied Allison. �But how, in the name of wonder, did you come here? Very easily,� replied Janet, �I have no time to tell you now. Granny Demdark has sent me over with a message to you, and Mr. Nutter. But may be, when I like, Mr. Retard here, what I have gotten to tell you. �I will leave you,� said Richard, about to depart. �Oh, no, no!� cried Allison, �she can have nothing to say which you may not hear. Then I go back to Granny Demdark, and tell her you are so proud to receive her message,� asked the child. �On no account,� whispered Richard, �do not let her anger the old hag. �Speak, Janet,� said Allison, in a tone of kind persuasion. �I shall not speak, unless it come all the way to Dome,� replied the little girl. �And what I have to say concerns you much. �I can easily cross,� observed Allison to Richard, �though stones seem placed on purpose. Upon this, descending from the terrace to the river's brink, and springing likely upon the first stone which reared its head above the firming tide, she bound it to another, and so in an instant was across the stream. Richard saw her ascend the opposite bank, and approached Janet, who withdrew behind the alder. And then he fancied he perceived an old bell-dome, partly concealed by the intervening branches of the tree, advanced, and seized 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 Allison nor Janet, nor the old bell-dome, 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 by his shouts, nor could he discover any trace of the means by which Allison had been spirited away. After some time spent in ineffectual search, uncertain what cause 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 Allison. 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. Allison 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 dispatch him instantly to Malkin Tower. I will go instead, said Richard. You are better to 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 with me, then, 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 Knowle 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 this chain over Richard's neck, she said, Place this talisman, which is of sovereign virtue near your heart, and know which craft 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. She will admitence 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 may 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. Faster as Richard rode up the steep hillside, 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 thunderstorm 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 sure-footed, 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 screamed themselves under the thickest foliage. The pie chattered incessantly. The jay screamed, the bittern blew 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, swept side-long down, and sought shelter beneath an impending rock. The rabbits scuttered off to his burrow in the break, and the hare, erecting himself for a moment, as if to listen to the note of danger, creptimorously 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 halfway 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 obscured linked to them, but whether of man or beast he could not distinguish. Richard called to it, no answer. He stuck 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 there he had gone far. The eyes were visible again, glaring at the rider from the wood. This time they approached, dilating and increasing in growing intensity till they scorched him like burning-glasses. Rethinking 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 marveling 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 effort 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 forehoofs. 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 if stricken of 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 rattling 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, mulking 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 anything human, a gigantic black cat with rough and staring skin and flaming eyeballs. Faced by the sight of the tower, Richard was on his steeds 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. Air long 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 unhullowed pile. When within twenty paces of it, mindful of Mr. Snutter's junctions, 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.  A black-thrung cape constituted the old witch's headgear, 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, How dares to summon Mother Demdike? A messenger from Mistress Nutter, replied Richard, I am coming her name to demand the restitution of Alice and Device, whom now has forcibly and wrongfully taken from her. Alice and Device is my granddaughter, and as such belongs to me and not to Mistress Nutter, rejoined Mother Demdike. Thou knowest thou speakest false foul hag, cried Richard, Alice and is no blood of thine. Open the door and cast down the ladder, or I will find other means of entrance. Try then, then, rejoined Mother Demdike, and she closed the casement sharply, and drew the curtains over it. After reconnoitering 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 the 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 among 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. Then 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, the yellow flame illuminating her hideous visage, and short square, powerfully built frame. Her throat was like that of a ball, her hands of extraordinary size, and her arms, which were bare to the shoulder, brawny and muscular. Ah! still outside! She cried in a jeering tone, and with a wild discordant laugh, me thought thou a firmest thou shalt find a way into my dwelling. I do not yet despair of finding it, replied Richard. Fall! Screamed the hag, I tell thee it is in vain to attempt it without my consent. In the word I could make the walls one solid mass without window or alcoot from base to summit. With a word I could shaw stones upon thy head and crush neither 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. Heh!   Thine art, 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. Grater 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. Aye, upon one condition, replied Mother Demdike, thou shalt learn it to none. 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.  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. Saws thou ever face like mine? She cried. No, I was not, but I would rather inspire a version than terror than love. Love? Ha! I would rather see men shrink from me and shudder at my approach, than smile upon me and caught me. I would rather freeze the blood in their veins, than set it boiling with passion. Ha! Ha! No, what a fearful being indeed, exclaimed Richard the Pold. Careful am I, ejaculated the old witch, with renewed laughter, at least thou earnst it. I, I, 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 locks, to work the mischief. Ha! No, let us look at thee, she continued, holding the lamp over him. Right, sir, a calmly youth, and the young maid's dote upon the eye-dart nut, and praised thy blooming cheeks, thy bright eyes, thy flowing locks, and thy fine limbs, thy hate, thy mighty boy, and would mar it, would canke my hellsome flesh, dim thy lustrous eyes, and strike thy vigorous, limitless palsy, till they would shake like mine. Ha! Half a mind did to do it, she added, raising her staff and glaring at him with inconceivable dignity. Hold! exclaimed Richard, taking the talisman from his breast and displaying it to her. I am armed against thy malice. The demdike's staff fell from her grasp. I knew thou wert in some way protected, she cried furiously, and, sir, this is a piece of gold with magic characters upon it. Ha! 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 effected humility. I see it is in vain to struggle with thee, or rather with the potent lady who sent thee. Carry with her art, and I will bring amiss unto 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 has thou done to her, thou wicked hag? cried Richard in alarm. She is distraught, said Mother Demdike. Distraught! echoed Richard. But thou against easily cure her, said the old hag, significantly. Aye! 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 arch-doorway led was covered by a curtain of old aris, 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 had 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 Allison, 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. Allison, dear Allison, I have come to free you! he exclaimed. But in place of answering him she uttered a piercing scream. The tannis man, the tannis man! 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 Allison vanished. The chamber was buried in gloom and amidst a hub above 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. END OF CHAPTER XI BOOK II PENDLE FOREST CHAPTER XII THE MYSTERIES OF VOLK ENTIRE It was a subterranean chamber, gloomy in the 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. Sins 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, hooked with iron, and fastened by large padlocks. Near them stood a large armory, likewise awoke and sculpted with the ensigns of Waley 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 wall-like 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 this old, a-heaton and blackburn the free-booter. The pillars were arranged in three lines, first a form with the arches above them, a series of short passages, in the midst of which stood an altar, and near it a large cauldron. 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 was 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 discernable approach to the vault was a steep, narrow stone staircase, closed at the top by a heavy-trapped door. Other outlet apparently there was none. Long 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 Rosie 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 were broken by the horrible things that lurked beneath or crawled about on 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 mis-shape an animal, bearing some resemblance to a cat, but big as a tiger. Its skin was black and shaggy, its eyes glowed like those of the hyena, and its cry was like that of the same treacherous beast. Among the gloomy colonnades, other swat 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, Janet,' exclaimed the elder of the two, is there no means of escape?' "'None, whatever,' replied the other, "'Yam on, stay here till Granny Demdak comes for you.' "'Oh, that the earth would open and snatch me from these horrors,' cried Allison, "'my reason is forsaking me. Would I could kneel and pray for deliverance, but something prevents me?' "'Rate,' replied Janet, "'it's as better as your last worth to kneel and pray here, lest you choose to go and throw your scent at the feet of young black image.' "'Needle to that idol, never,' exclaimed Allison, and while striving to call upon heaven for aid, a sharp convulsion seized her, and deprived her of the power of utterance. "'I told you it would be,' remarked Janet, who watched her narrowly, "'you know here church here, and if you want to worship it must be at your nalter. Don't know your ear, how angry the cats are, how they growl and spit, and see how they rhyme glisten. They'll tear your bases like so many tigers if you offend them.' "'Tell me why I'm brought here, Janet,' inquired Allison, after a brief pause.  She cannot do that without my consent,' cried Allison, "'and I would die a thousand deaths rather than yield it.' "'That may man's to be saying,' replied Janet, tauntingly, "'yobst in that stuff right enough, no doubt, but Granny Demdak's used to deal with such talk.' "'Oh, why was I born?' cried Allison bitterly. "'Yeah, may well ask that,' responded Janet, with a loud unfeeling laugh. "'For I say no great use you're on, with your pretty face and bright eye, and let it be to make one at you.' "'Is it possible you can say this to me, Janet?' cried Allison. "'What have I done to incur your hatred? I have always loved you and striven to please and serve you. I have always taken your part against others, even when you were in the wrong.    Well, can't expect of.  "'That will never be, Janet,' said Allison, sadly but firmly. "'Your grandmother may amure 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's statue. "'I am well on you, Allison,' said Janet, alarmed by these demonstrations. "'But since you bear no aid to our dase, I'll leave you to your bed.' "'Oh, stay with me, stay with me, Janet,' shrieked Allison, "'by our past sisterly affection I implore you to remain. "'Your summed protection took me from these dreadful things.' "'I don't know what to protect you, lest you know as you've been,' replied Janet, "'I should know me better than they.' "'Ah, why indeed,' cried Allison, "'would I have the power to turn your heart, to open your eyes to evil, to save you, Janet?' These words were followed by another clang, louder and more brackling than the first. The solid walls of the dungeon were shaken, and the heavy columns rocked. While to Allison's affrighted gaze it seemed as if the sable statue arose upon its even 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 arch 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 granddaughter were visible. Allison could not tell whether it was night or day, but a lamp was burning upon the table, its feeble light only imperfectly illuminating 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 his soul the heathen and her lover Blackburn, in another the Saxon utrid hanging from the summit of Malkin Tower, and in a third the execution of Abbott-Passlew. 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, Allison 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 trap-door, rising slowly on its hinges.   Her 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 lapsed heavily upon the ground, the trap-door closed behind her. So you are the better, Allison, and have quitted your couch, I find. She cried, striking her staff upon the floor. That you look faint and feeble still. I will give you something to revive you. I have a wondrous cordial enion-closet, a rare restorative. 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 Allison.  Rather die, echoed mother dem-dikes, orcastically, because forsooth you are crossed in love. But you shall have the man of your heart, yet, if you would only follow my counsel, and do as I bid you. Richard Ascherton shall be yours, and with your mother's consent provided. I understand the condition you annexed at the promise, interrupted, Allison, 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. I 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 Allison, 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 further through me. I have heard this tale before, but I would not believe it. Now I do.  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 light compact exists between Mistress Nutter and the fiend. She paused for a moment to watch the effect of her words on Alison, 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 art brought up as my granddaughter, and therefore I claim thee as my own. And do you think to deal with me as if I were a puppet in your hands? cried Alison. Aye, Mary, I do! rejoined Mother Demdike, with a scream of laughter. Nothing more than a puppet. A puppet! And you deem you can dispose of my soul without my consent, said Alison. Thy fault-concentre be obtained, rejoined the old hag. Think it not, think it not! She exclaimed Alison, 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 now he start that! cried Mother Demdike, with a spiteful look, by an instinct that never deceives, replied Alison, 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 already been 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 Alison, restored her power of speech and motion. It was he, exclaimed the young girl, as soon as she could find utterance, I heard his voice. Why, eh, eh, it was he, sure enough, rejoined the bell-dame. 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 arts that is known to me. I can do one 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 Rumble's moor, or on the summit of Pendle Hill, or within the ruins of Wiley Abbey. Many Rossilites have I made. Many unbaptised babes offered up in sacrifice. I am high priestess to the demon, and thy mother would usurp my office.  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 amongst other sects, and mine is the first. It's just not her 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 bitty, cried Allison. Often have I aided thy mother in her dark schemes. Pursued the implacable hag? There, 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 would have achieved so much, not even the accursed chateaux, than she is next to myself. And how dost thy mother purpose to requite me? Thy trusting me aside and stepping into my throne. You must be in error, cried Allison, 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 they are formed. I have those about her who keep strict watch upon her actions, and report them faithfully. I know I she brought thee so suddenly to roughly, though thou knowest not. She brought me there for safety, remarked the young girl, hoping to allay the bell-dams' 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 and the meeting in the ruin church of Whaley last night. When thou thyself was present and delivered Dorothy Ascherton 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 rang 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 Allison, horror-stricken. I, thou, cried the hag, no choice was allowed, and the offering must be made to a knight. After a long and patentful struggle thy mother consented. Oh, no, impossible you deceive me, cried the wretched girl. I tell thee she consented. She rejoined mother Demnite coldly, and on this she made instant arrangements to return home, and in spite, as thou narrest, of Sir Ralph and Lady Ascherton's efforts to detain her, set forth with thee. All this I know, observed Allison sadly, and intelligence of our departure from the Abbey was conveyed to you. I conclude by Janet to whom I battered you. 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 well and I run. Thou had made the price of its extension. If she fails in offering thee up to knight, and thou art here in my keeping, that fiend her master will abandon her, then she will be delivered up to the justice of man. Allison covered her face with horror. After a while 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. Where 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. Piss! 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 hath renounced all hopes of heaven. She had been baptised in the baptism of hell, and branded on the brow by the red finger of its ruler, and cannot be rested from him. It is too late. No, no, it never can be too late, cried Allison. It is not even too late for you. Thou knowest not what thou talks about foolish wench, rejoined the hag. Our master would tear us instantly in pieces if but a thought of penitence has thou caused it across our minds. We are both doomed to an eternity of torture, but thy mother will go first. Thy first! If she had yielded thee up to night, another term would have been allowed her. But as I herald thee instead, the benefit of the sacrifice will be mine. That hist! What was that? The youth again, and it's not that I must have given him some potent counter to arm. He comes to deliver me, cried Allison. 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 Allison, and restoring her sensibility placed her hideous face close to her, breathing upon her and uttering these words, Be thine eyes blinded and thy brain confused, so thou mayst not know him when thou cease him, but think him another. The spell took instant effect. Allison staggered towards the table. Richard was summoned, and on his appearance the scene took place which had already been detailed, and which ended in his losing the talisman and being ejected from the tower. Allison had been rendered invisible by the old witch, and was afterwards dragged into the arch-recess, 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. Allison 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 out of the vault, and watch over her. She said, I will descend and on. Upon this the shadowy arms enveloped Allison. The trap-door flew open, and the figure disappeared with its inanimate burden. CHAPTER XIII After seeing Richard depart on his perilous mission to Morkin 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 Allison, a prey to the most agonizing 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. Nutter 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 would only be accomplished by her own destruction, but even this dread alternative she was prepared to embrace. Alice'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 over-mastered 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 occurred 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 have sent 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. Unlike 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 Toffett, 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 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 red-hot 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 thunderclouds rested upon the hillside, 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 wane-scotting 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 Allison's early history. As Mistress Nutter returned to the fireplace, a plaintive cry arose from it, and starting, for the sound revised terrible memories within her breast, she beheld the ineffasible stains upon the flag, traced out by blue, phosphoric fire, while above them hovered the shape of a bleeding infant. Horrors 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 wanted 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 in Lumen 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. Your are mistaken, madam. He replied, you had never wore 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 vented 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 that device. Not so, rejoined Mistress Nutter, I say, yea, retorted the familiar. Thou art my slave, I command thee to bring Alice and Hither at once. The familiar shook his head. Thou refusest, cried Mistress Nutter menacingly. Just though not I have the means of chastising thee. Your hand, 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.  At your solicitation the boundaries of your property were changed, and large slips of land filched from another to be given to you.  The boundary marks will be set up in their own places, and the land restored to its rightful owner. I expected as much. Observe, Mistress Nutter, disdainfully. Us, all our pains, will be thrown away. Pursued the familiar. And though you may make light of the labour, it is no easy to us 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 by my performance. This morning I was the reave of the forest, and as such, obliged to assume the shape of our muscly attorney, I felt it a degradation I'll show you. Though I was I better pleased when you compelled me to put on the likeness of old Roger Knowle, for whatever you may think, I am not so entirely destitute of personal fanatism to prefer either of their figures to my own. However, I showed no disinclination to oblige you. You are strangely unreasonable today. 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. The Lord is an arch-deceiver, rejoined Mistress Nutter, and cannot perform his promises. They are empty delusions, profitless, insubstantial as shadows. His power prevails not against anything holy, as I myself have just now experienced. His money turns to withered leaves, his treasures, and dust-nashes. Strong only is he in the 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 hearts. You should have thought of all this before you vowed yourself to him, said the familiar. It is too late to reflect now. The chance not, rejoined Mistress Nutter. 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 do 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. Lord, show me the witch he has enriched. Of what profit is her worship of this false deity? Of what avail the sacrifices she makes at his foul alters? 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 murderous dendike and the malignant chateaux, and examine the means whereby they have prolonged their baleful career. In normities 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 in 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? Ask the familiar. To them it is everything. They care neither for splendid mansions, nor for wealth, nor youth, nor beauty. If they did, they could have them all.  This is the privilege they seek, and this privilege they enjoy. And what is the end of it all? demanded Mistress Nutter sternly. As long they will be unable to furnish victims to their insatiable master, who will then abandon them. Their bodies will go to the hangman and their souls to endless bail. The familiar laugh, 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, thus I have intimated, will extend hers, and it is fortunate for her she is unable 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 scanted time allotted to me, and bear me hence to his burning kingdom. But injure my child, he cannot, shall not. Go to Malkin. Dower at midnight, and then now we'll see. Reply the familiar with a mocking laugh. I will go there, but it shall be to deliver her. Rejoin 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, whilst thou wilt be horribly unable to defend thyself against thine enemies. I cannot, she rejoined. Be gone. The familiar stepped back, and stamping upon the hearthstone, it sank like a trapped door, 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 a while 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 from 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 being able to effect her daughter's liberation? No matter. However desperate, the attempt should be made. Meanwhile it would be necessary to 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 Ascherton fast asleep in a great armchair, 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 may be by the potency of the wine he had swallowed, for an empty flask stood on the table beside him. Mr. Snutter did not awaken him, but proceeded to the chamber where she had left Noel 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 anything, 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 single good client. Speak for yourself, sir, cried Roger Noel sharply. You shall have it, interposed Mr. Snutter. I shall be glad of a word with you before I go, master Noel. I am sorry this dispute has arisen between us. exclaimed the magistrate. Very sorry, pursued Mr. Snutter, and I wish to make every reparation in my power. Reparation, madam, cried Noel, 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 Mr. Snutter. You will, exclaimed Noel, when the fellow did not deceive us, master Potts. Has anyone been with you? asked the lady uneasily. Oi, the reave of the forest! replied Noel. 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 the madam, and it 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 Mr. Snutter. 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 air 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— Usch! interrupted Noel. It must be the rave. We cannot comply with your request, madam, he had it allowed. Certainly not, said Potts, we can make no bargain with an abound 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 on 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 Ascherton, 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. I did know that tomorrow we shall have the pleasure of escorting you to Lancaster Castle, and your trial will come on at the exercises 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 tell you to listen to your taunts, she added, allowed. You may possibly regret rejecting my proposal, so saying she quitted the room. As she returned to the hall, Nicholas awoke. But the devil was darned, he exclaimed, stretching himself and rubbing his eyes. Zand, that flash of lightning were enough to blind me in the thunder, well-nice, split one's ears. Yet you have slipped through loud appeals, Nicholas, said Mistress Nutter, coming up to him. Richard has not returned from his mission, and I must go myself to Malkindar. In my absence I must entrust you with the defence of my house. I am willing to undertake it, replied Nicholas, providing 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, that it 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 Ellison. If odd happens to me, Nicholas, if I should, whatever, Miss Jantz, 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, and the 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 a special care of the deed, and produce it, as I have said, at the fitting moment. You will know when that arrives. Ah, 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 Chatex? exclaimed the lady, closing the door. Can you not guess? replied the hag. I have come to help you, not for any love I bear you, but to avenge myself an old demdack. Do not interrupt me. My familiar fancy has told me all, and I know are your circumstances, and know I'll listen in all demdack's clutches, and you are unable to extract her. But I can, and will, because if the hateful old hag fails in offering up her sacrifice for the first hour of day, her turn will be ours, and I shall be rid of her, and read in her stead. Tomorrow she'll be on her way to Lancaster Castle. The dungeons prepared for her. The stake driven into the clan. The baggards eat round it. The torch is only to be lighted. Shall we go to Melchandauer? asked Mistress Nutter, shuddering. Now, to the summit of Pendle Hill, rejoined mother Chatex, but there the girl will be taken, and there only can weigh secure her. But first we may proceed to my hut, and make some preparations. I have three scalps, and eight teeth, taken from a gravey gold-shored churchyard this very day. They can make a charm with them. You must prepare it alone, said Mistress Nutter. I can have not to do with it. Hello to her, I'd forgotten. Gried the hag with the chuckling laugh. He or I'd no longer want of us. Well then, I would do it alone. But come with me. You will not object to mount on my broomstick. It's 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 born 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, uttered a wild scream of laughter. While a raven, speeding on broad black wings below 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 waist, and dangerous morass. Fearful it is to behold these two flying figures, as the lightning shows them bestriding their fantastical steed.  The ride is over, and they are light 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 horse-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 cauldron 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 Chattuck's 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. Heeping on more turf and shifting the cauldron, 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 upon 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.  Give me that scout, that mischievous imp! cries the hag. I need it for the time I am about to prepare! Give it to 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 that 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 Chatex put forward 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. No, you ought concerning it. Ah, a good deal! replied the old woman, chuckling. It comes from a grave near the yew-tree, and not far from Abbot Bitherhouse Cross. No, Zuck and I are worms, a sextant dignity dup 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, all her cheeks and all her eyes, wasted flesh and cruel coffers, and she pined and pined away. Vork said she was Vork spoken, and that I had done it. Ah, forsooth! she had never done me, arm. You know whether I was rightly a goose, madam. Ah, take it away! cried Mistress Nutter hurriedly, and as if struggling against some over-mastering feeling. Ah, I cannot bear to look at it. I wanted not this horrible reminder of my crimes. This was the reason, then, why Ralph stole a scalp from me. Mother the hag, as she threw it, together with some other matters into the cauldron. I wanted to show you his sagacity. I'm not a guest 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. Ah, well, 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 still upon her, and though her dreams were troubled, she did not awake till Mother Chatex stood beside her. Have I slept long? she inquired. Now, then, 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 Chatex. There's plenty of time. Come another room. All is ready. As Mistress Nutter followed the old hag into the adjoining room, a strong odor 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 in the clay floor by skulls and bones, alternated by dried toads, adders, and other reptiles. In the midst of this magical circle the cauldron, which had been brought from the chimney, was placed, and the lid being removed a thick vapor 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 Chatex 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 cauldron, and declared 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. Cauldron safe-spoiling, and small disperse, cried Mother Chatex, stamping her foot. Now, can you see more plainly? I can, replied Mistress Nutter. I behold the subterranean chamber beneath Morkin Tower, with its nine ponderous columns. Its altar in the midst of them, its demon image, and the well with water's black as leafy beside it. There were, though, within the cauldron game from that well, said Mother Chatex, with a chuckling laugh, my familiar rest is liberty to bring it, but it succeeded. My precious fancy, thou art the best of servants, and shall have my best blood to reward thee to mother. Thou shalt, my sweetheart, my joke, my dandy prat! But hide thee back to Morkin Tower, and contrive that this lady may hear, as well as see, all that passes. The way! 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 Chatex. Ah, yes, exclaimed the lady. I have at last discovered Alison. She was behind one of the billers. A little girl is with her. It is Janet's device, and from the spiteful looks of the latter, I judge she is Morkin her.  She is a true descendant of Mother Demdike. But Alison, sweet, patient Alison, 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 Janet shakes her hand at her and leaves her. She is alone. What will she do now? Has she no thoughts of escape? Ah, 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, rejoin 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 Chatex. Take me to her, I implore you. Again, passable, replied the hag, it must await the fitting time. If you cannot control yourself, I shall remove the cauldron. 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. This is monstrous, intolerable, so that I could un-deceive her, could warn her of the snare. What is the nature of the delusion? asked Mother Chatex 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, conning divass, and worthy of all dem dyke. 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 a last thou and I, Chatex, have signed. But Aliceon 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 in treaties, casts herself on the ground and clasps my child's knees in humblest supplication. Oh, that Aliceon 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 would 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 a spirit? asked the witch. It laughs derisively, replied Mistress Nutter, and proceeds to use all those sophisticated arguments which we have so often heard to pervert her mind and overthrow her principles. But Aliceon 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 in treaty, the spirit now endeavours to work upon her fears, then 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 a worldly joys and honours compared with those of heaven, exclaims Aliceon. 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, seeing by its passionate gestures to implore her to ascend. But she is firm, and the vision disappears. The ordeal is now over. Aliceon 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. Another demnax not done with her yet. Observe, Chatex. 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 saprications, no arguments, but commands and terrible threats. She is as unsuccessful as her envoy. Aliceon has gained courage and defies her. Does she, sir? exclaimed Mother Chatex. I am glad of it. The solid floor resounds with the stamping of the enraged witch. Presumed Mistress Nutter, she tells Aliceon she will take her to Pendle Hill at midnight and there offer her up as a sacrifice to the fiend. Nightchild replies that she trusts for her deliverance to heaven, that her body may be destroyed, but that her soul cannot be harmed. Scarcely are the words uttered than a terrible clanger is heard. The walls of the dungeon seem breaking down and the ponderous columns real. 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 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 though 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 disilute, his soul deheaten. She joins the grisly throng now approaching the distracted girl who falls insensible to the ground. Can you say more, asked the hag, as Mistress Nutter still bent eagerly over the cauldron? No, the whole chamber is buried in darkness, replied the lady.  What will become of her? I will question fancy, replied the hag, throwing some fresh ingredients into the chafing-dish. And as the smoker rose, she vociferated, Gormy the fancy, I want thee, my fondly, my sweet, Come quickly, thou art here. The familiar was still invisible to Mistress Nutter, but a slight sound made her aware of his presence. And thou, my sweet fancy, pursued the hag, Tell us if thou canst what will be done with Hallison and what course we must pursue to fear from all them-dack. At present she is in an estate 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 Markentower. It is too well guarded. Your only chance will be to interrupt the sacrifice.  It is a perplexing question, replied the voice, for by showing you how to obtain possession of the girl, I disobey my lord. Ah, but you serve me, you please me, my pretty fancy, cried the hag. You shall quaff your fill of blood on the moral, if you do this for me. Now I want to get rid of my old enemy, the catcher in her own toils, the sender to a dungeon to burn her. You must help me, my little sweet dart. I will do all I can, replied the voice. But the mother-dendake 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, oh, 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 Asherton, and didn't like guys hastened to roughly, 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 Knowle, the magistrate, and his mermid and pots, the attorney, both of whom are detained prisoners in the house by my orders. That scheme promises well and shall be adopted, replied the hag, but the bird Richard himself should appear first on the scene, just know where he is, my sweet fancy. When I North saw him, replied the voice, he was lying centress on the ground of the foot of Malkita, 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, I bet, though it is not hard but 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. cried the hag, and as she spoke a figure in all respects resembling Richard stood before them. Well, what thank you of him? Well, they do, said Mother Chattox. I replied the lady, and now sent 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 forgo my triumph over all Demdike. Now, aware with thee, and when thou hast executed thy mission, return and tell us how thou are sped in the matter. The familiar promised obedience to her commands, and disappeared.