The Lancashire Witches by William Harrison Ainsworth
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William Harrison Ainsworth >> The Lancashire Witches
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"What has he done?" asked Mother Chattox.
"Run off with the attorney--with Master Potts," replied Fancy;
"disappeared in the gloom, so that it is impossible Nicholas can follow
him--ho! ho!"
"But my child!--where is my child?" cried Mistress Nutter, in agitated
impatience.
"Come with me, and I will lead you to her," replied Fancy, taking her
hand; "and do you keep close to us, mistress," he added to Mother
Chattox.
Moving quickly along the heathy plain, they soon reached a small dry
hollow, about a hundred paces from the beacon, in the midst of which, as
in a grave, was deposited the inanimate form of Alizon. When the spot
was indicated to her by Fancy, the miserable mother flew to it, and,
with indescribable delight, clasped her child to her breast. But the
next moment, a new fear seized her, for the limbs were stiff and cold,
and the heart had apparently ceased to beat.
"She is dead!" exclaimed Mistress Nutter, frantically.
"No; she is only in a magical trance," said Fancy; "my mistress can
instantly revive her."
"Prithee do so, then, good Chattox," implored the lady.
"Better defer it till we have taken her hence," rejoined the hag.
"Oh! no, now--now! Let me be assured she lives!" cried Mistress Nutter.
Mother Chattox reluctantly assented, and, touching Alizon with her
skinny finger, first upon the heart and then upon the brow, the poor
girl began to show symptoms of life.
"My child--my child!" cried Mistress Nutter, straining her to her
breast; "I am come to save thee!"
"You will scarce succeed, if you tarry here longer," said Fancy. "Away!"
"Ay, come away!" shrieked the hag, seizing Alizon's arm.
"Where are you about to take her?" asked Mistress Nutter.
"To my hut," replied Mother Chattox.
"No, no--she shall not go there," returned the lady.
"And wherefore not?" screamed the hag. "She is mine now, and I say she
_shall_ go."
"Right, mistress," said Fancy; "and leave the lady here if she objects
to accompany her. But be quick."
"You shall not take her from me!" shrieked Mistress Nutter, holding her
daughter fast. "I see through your diabolical purpose. You have the same
dark design as Mother Demdike, and would sacrifice her; but she shall
not go with you, neither will I."
"Tut!" exclaimed the hag, "you have lost your senses on a sudden. I do
not want your daughter. But come away, or Mother Demdike will surprise
us."
"Do not trifle with her longer," whispered Fancy to the hag; "drag the
girl away, or you will lose her. A few moments, and it will be too
late."
Mother Chattox made an attempt to obey him, but Mistress Nutter resisted
her.
"Curses on her!" she muttered, "she is too strong for me. Do thou help
me," she added, appealing to Fancy.
"I cannot," he replied; "I have done all I dare to help you. You must
accomplish the rest yourself."
"But, my sweet imp, recollect--"
"I recollect I have a master," interrupted the familiar.
"And a mistress, too," cried the hag; "and she will chastise thee if
thou art disobedient. I command thee to carry off this girl."
"I have already told you I dare not, and I now say I will not," replied
Fancy.
"Will not!" shrieked the hag. "Thou shalt smart for this. I will bury
thee in the heart of this mountain, and make thee labour within it like
a gnome. I will set thee to count the sands on the river's bed, and the
leaves on the forest trees. Thou shalt know neither rest nor respite."
"Ho! ho! ho!" laughed Fancy, mockingly.
"Dost deride me?" cried the hag. "I will do it, thou saucy jackanapes.
For the last time, wilt obey me?"
"No," replied Fancy, "and for this reason--your term is out. It expired
at midnight."
"It is false!" shrieked the hag, in accents of mixed terror and rage. "I
have months to run, and will renew it."
"Before midnight, you might have done so; but it is now too late--your
reign is over," rejoined Fancy. "Farewell, sweet mistress. We shall meet
once again, though scarcely under such pleasant circumstances as
heretofore."
"It cannot be, my darling Fancy; thou art jesting with me," whimpered
the hag; "thou wouldst not delude thy doating mistress thus."
"I have done with thee, foul hag," rejoined the familiar, "and am right
glad my service is ended. I could have saved thee, but would not, and
delayed my return for that very purpose. Thy soul was forfeited when I
came back to thy hut."
"Then curses on thee for thy treachery," cried the hag, "and on thy
master, who deceived me in the bond he placed before me."
The familiar laughed hoarsely.
"But what of Mother Demdike?" pursued the hag. "Hast thou no comfort for
me? Tell me her hour is likewise come, and I will forgive thee. But do
not let her triumph over me."
The familiar made no answer, but, laughing derisively, stamped upon the
ground, and it opened to receive him.
"Alizon!" cried Mistress Nutter, who in the mean time had vainly
endeavoured to rouse her daughter to full consciousness, "fly with me,
my child. The enemy is at hand."
"What enemy?" asked Alizon, faintly. "I have so many, that I know not
whom you mean."
"But this is the worst of all--this is Mother Demdike," cried Mistress
Nutter. "She would take your life. If we can but conceal ourselves for a
short while, we are safe."
"I am too weak to move," said Alizon; "besides, I dare not trust you. I
have been deceived already. You may be an evil spirit in the likeness of
my mother."
"Oh! no, I am indeed your own--own mother," rejoined Mistress Nutter.
"Ask this old woman if it is not so."
"She is a witch herself," replied Alizon. "I will not trust either of
you. You are both in league with Mother Demdike."
"We are in league to save thee from her, foolish wench!" cried Mother
Chattox, "but thy perverseness will defeat all our schemes."
"Since you will not fly, my child," cried Mistress Nutter, "kneel down,
and pray earnestly for deliverance. Pray, while there is yet time."
As she spoke, a growl like thunder was heard in the air, and the earth
trembled beneath their feet.
"Nay, now I am sure you are my mother!" cried Alizon, flinging herself
into Mistress Nutter's arms; "and I will go with you."
But before they could move, several dusky figures were seen rushing
towards them.
"Be on your guard!" cried Mother Chattox; "here comes old Demdike with
her troop. I will aid you all I can."
"Down on your knees!" exclaimed Mistress Nutter.
Alizon obeyed, but ere a word could pass her lips, the infuriated hag,
attended by her beldame band, stood beside them.
"Ha! who is here?" she cried. "Let me see who dares interrupt my mystic
rites."
And raising her hand, the black cloud hanging over the hill was rent
asunder, and the moon shone down upon them, revealing the old witch,
armed with the sacrificial knife, her limbs shaking with fury, and her
eyes flashing with preternatural light. It revealed, also, her weird
attendants, as well as the group before her, consisting of the kneeling
figure of Alizon, protected by the outstretched arms of her mother, and
further defended by Mother Chattox, who planted herself in front of
them.
Mother Demdike eyed the group for a moment as if she would, annihilate
them.
"Out of my way, Chattox!" she vociferated--"out of my way, or I will
drive my knife to thy heart." And as her old antagonist maintained her
ground, she unhesitatingly advanced upon her, smote her with the weapon,
and, as she fell to the ground, stepped over her bleeding body.
"Now what dost thou here, Alice Nutter?" she cried, menacing her with
the reeking blade.
"I am come for my child, whom thou hast stolen from me," replied the
lady.
"Thou art come to witness her slaughter," replied the witch, fiercely.
"Begone, or I will serve thee as I have just served old Chattox."
"I am not sped yet," cried the wounded hag; "I shall live to see thee
bound hand and foot by the officers of justice, and, certain thou wilt
perish miserably, I shall die content."
"Spit out thy last drops of venom, black viper," rejoined Mother
Demdike; "when I have done with the others, I will return and finish
thee. Alice Nutter, thou knowest it is vain to struggle with me. Give me
up the girl."
"Wilt thou accept my life for hers?" said Mistress Nutter.
"Of what account would thy life be to me?" rejoined Mother Demdike,
disdainfully. "If it would profit me to take it, I would do so without
thy consent, but I am about to make an oblation to our master, and thou
art his already. Snatch her child from her--we waste time," she added,
to her attendants.
And immediately the weird crew rushed forward, and in spite of the
miserable mother's efforts tore Alizon from her.
"I told you it was in vain to contend with me," said Mother Demdike.
"Oh, that I could call down heaven's vengeance upon thy accursed head!"
cried Mistress Nutter; "but I am forsaken alike of God and man, and
shall die despairing."
"Rave on, thou wilt have ample leisure," replied the hag. "And now
bring the girl this way," she added to the beldames; "the sacrifice must
be made near the beacon."
And as Alizon was borne away, Mistress Nutter uttered a cry of anguish.
"Do not stay here," said Mother Chattox, raising herself with
difficulty. "Go after her; you may yet save your daughter."
"But how?" cried Mistress Nutter, distractedly. "I have no power now."
As she spoke a dusky form rose up beside her. It was her familiar.
"Will you return to your duty if I help you in this extremity?" he said.
"Ay, do, do!" cried Mother Chattox. "Anything to avenge yourself upon
that murtherous hag."
"Peace!" cried the familiar, spurning her with his cloven foot.
"I do not want vengeance," said Mistress Nutter; "I only want to save my
child."
"Then you consent on that condition?" said the familiar.
"No!" replied Mistress Nutter, firmly. "I now perceive I am not utterly
lost, since you try to regain me. I have renounced thy master, and will
make no new bargain with him. Get hence, tempter!"
"Think not to escape us," cried the familiar; "no penitence--no
absolution can save thee. Thy name is written on the judgment scroll,
and cannot be effaced. I would have aided thee, but, since my offer is
rejected, I leave thee."
"You will not let him go!" screamed Mother Chattox. "Oh that the chance
were mine!"
"Be silent, or I will beat thy brains out!" said the familiar. "Once
more, am I dismissed?"
"Ay, for ever!" replied Mistress Nutter.
And as the familiar disappeared, she flew to the spot where her child
had been taken.
About twenty paces from the beacon, a circle had again been formed by
the unhallowed crew, in the midst of which stood Mother Demdike, with
the gory knife in her hand, muttering spells and incantations, and
performing mystical ceremonials.
Every now and then her companions joined in these rites, and chanted a
song couched in a wild, unintelligible jargon. Beside the witch knelt
Alizon, with her hands tied behind her back, so that she could not raise
them in supplication; her hair unbound, and cast loosely over her
person, and a thick bandage fastened over her eyes and mouth.
The initiatory ceremonies over, the old hag approached her victim, when
Mistress Nutter forced herself through the circle, and cast herself at
her feet.
"Spare her!" she cried, clinging to her knees; "it shall be well for
thee if thou dost so."
"Again interrupted!" cried the witch, furiously. "This time I will show
thee no mercy. Take thy fate, meddlesome woman!"
And she raised the knife, but ere the weapon could descend, it was
seized by Mistress Nutter, and wrested from her grasp. In another
instant, Alizon's arms were liberated, and the bandage removed from her
eyes.
"Now it is my turn to threaten. I have thee in my power, infernal hag!"
cried Mistress Nutter, holding the knife to the witch's throat, and
clasping her daughter with the other arm. "Wilt let us go?"
"No!" replied Mother Demdike, springing nimbly backwards. "You shall
both die. I will soon disarm thee."
And making one or two passes with her hands, Mistress Nutter dropped the
weapon, and instantly became fixed and motionless, with her daughter,
equally rigid, in her arms. They looked as if suddenly turned to marble.
"Now to complete the ceremonial," cried Mother Demdike, picking up the
knife.
And then she began to mutter an impious address preparatory to the
sacrifice, when a loud clangour was heard like the stroke of a hammer
upon a bell.
"What was that?" exclaimed the witch, in alarm.
"Were there a clock here, I should say it had struck one," replied
Mould-heels.
"It must be our master's timepiece," said another witch.
"One o'clock!" exclaimed Mother Demdike, who appeared stupefied with
fear, "and the sacrifice not made--then I am lost!"
A derisive laugh reached her ears. It proceeded from Mother Chattox, who
had contrived to raise herself to her feet, and, tottering forward, now
passed through the appalled circle.
"Ay, thy term is out--thy soul is forfeited like mine--ha! ha!" And she
fell to the ground.
"Perhaps it may not be too late," cried Mother Demdike, grasping the
knife, and rushing towards Alizon.
But at this moment a bright flame shot up from the beacon.
Astonishment and terror seized the hag, and she uttered a loud cry,
which was echoed by the rest of the crew.
The flame mounted higher and higher, and burnt each moment more
brightly, illumining the whole summit of the hill. By its light could be
seen a band of men, some of whom were on horseback, speeding towards the
place of meeting.
Scared by the sight, the witches fled, but were turned by another band
advancing from the opposite quarter. They then made towards the spot
where their broomsticks were deposited, but ere they could reach it, a
third party gained the summit of the hill at this precise point, and
immediately started in pursuit of them.
Meanwhile, a young man issuing from behind the beacon, flew towards
Mistress Nutter and her daughter. The moment the flame burst forth, the
spell cast over them by Mother Demdike was broken, and motion and speech
restored.
"Alizon!" exclaimed the young man, as he came up, "your trials are over.
You are safe."
"Oh, Richard!" she replied, falling into his arms, "have we been
preserved by you?"
"I am a mere instrument in the hands of Heaven," he replied.
Mother Demdike made no attempt at flight with the rest of the witches,
but remained for a few moments absorbed in contemplation of the flaming
beacon. Her hand still grasped the murderous weapon she had raised
against Alizon, but it had dropped to her side when the fire burst
forth. At length she turned fiercely to Richard, and demanded--
"Was it thou who kindled the beacon?"
"It was!" replied the young man.
"And who bade thee do it--who brought thee hither?" pursued the witch.
"An enemy of thine, old woman!" replied Richard, "His vengeance has been
slow in coming, but it has arrived at last."
"But who is he? I see him not!" rejoined Mother Demdike.
"You will see him before yon flame expires," said Richard. "I should
have come to your assistance sooner, Alizon," he continued, turning to
her, "but I was forbidden. And I knew I should best ensure your safety
by compliance with the injunctions I had received."
"Some guardian spirit must have interposed to preserve us," replied
Alizon; "for such only could have successfully combated with the evil
beings from whom we have been delivered."
"Thy spirit is unable to preserve thee now!" cried Mother Demdike,
aiming a deadly blow at her with the knife. But, fortunately, the
attempt was foreseen by Richard, who caught her arm, and wrested the
weapon from her.
"Curses on thee, Richard Assheton!" cried the infuriated hag,--"and on
thee too, Alizon Device, I cannot work ye the immediate ill I wish. I
cannot make ye loathsome in one another's eyes. I cannot maim your
limbs, or blight your beauty. I cannot deliver you over to devilish
possession. But I can bequeath you a legacy of hate. What I say will
come to pass. Thou, Alizon, wilt never wed Richard Assheton--never!
Vainly shall ye struggle with your destiny--vainly indulge hopes of
happiness. Misery and despair, and an early grave, are in store for both
of you. He shall be to you your worst enemy, and you shall be to him
destruction. Think of the witch's prediction and tremble, and may her
deadliest curse rest upon your heads."
"Oh, Richard!" exclaimed Alizon, who would have sunk to the ground if he
had not sustained her. "Why did you not prevent this terrible
malediction?"
"He could not," replied Mother Demdike, with a laugh of exultation; "it
shall work, and thy doom shall be accomplished. And now to make an end
of old Chattox, and then they may take me where they please."
And she was approaching her old enemy with the intention of putting her
threat into execution, when James Device, who appeared to start from the
ground, rushed swiftly towards her.
"What art thou doing here, Jem?" cried the hag, regarding him with angry
surprise. "Dost thou not see we are surrounded by enemies. I cannot
escape them--but thou art young and active. Away with thee!"
"Not without yo, granny," replied Jem. "Ey ha' run os fast os ey could
to help yo. Stick fast howld on me," he added, snatching her up in his
arms, "an ey'n bring yo clear off yet."
And he set off at a rapid pace with his burthen, Richard being too much
occupied with Alizon to oppose him.
CHAPTER XVII.--HOW THE BEACON FIRE WAS EXTINGUISHED.
Soon after this, Nicholas Assheton, attended by two or three men, came
up, and asked whither the old witch had flown.
Mistress Nutter pointed out the course taken by the fugitive, who had
run towards the northern extremity of the hill, down the sides of which
he had already plunged.
"She has been carried off by her grandson, Jem Device," said Mistress
Nutter; "be quick, or you will lose her."
"Ay, be quick--be quick!" added Mother Chattox. "Yonder they went, to
the back of the beacon."
Casting a look at the wretched speaker, and finding she was too
grievously wounded to be able to move, Nicholas bestowed no further
thought upon her, but set off with his companions in the direction
pointed out. He speedily arrived at the edge of the hill, and, looking
down it, sought in vain for any appearance of the fugitives. The sides
were here steep and shelving, and some hundred yards lower down were
broken into ridges, behind one of which it was possible the old witch
and her grandson might be concealed; so, without a moment's hesitation,
the squire descended, and began to search about in the hollows,
scrambling over the loose stones, or sliding down for some paces with
the uncertain boggy soil, when he fancied he heard a plaintive cry. He
looked around, but could see no one. The whole side of the mountain was
lighted up by the fire from the beacon, which, instead of diminishing,
burnt with increased ardour, so that every object was as easily to be
discerned as in the day-time; but, notwithstanding this, he could not
detect whence the sound proceeded. It was repeated, but more faintly
than before, and Nicholas almost persuaded himself it was the voice of
Potts calling for help. Motioning to his followers, who were engaged in
the search like himself, to keep still, the squire listened intently,
and again caught the sound, being this time convinced it arose from the
ground. Was it possible the unfortunate attorney had been buried alive?
Or had he been thrust into some hole, and a stone placed over it, which
he found it impossible to remove? The latter idea seemed the more
probable, and Nicholas was guided by a feeble repetition of the noise
towards a large fragment of rock, which, on examination, had evidently
been rolled from a point immediately over the mouth of a hollow. The
squire instantly set himself to work to dislodge the ponderous stone,
and, aided by two of his men, who lent their broad shoulders to the
task, quickly accomplished his object, disclosing what appeared to be
the mouth of a cavernous recess. From out of this, as soon as the stone
was removed, popped the head of Master Potts, and Nicholas, bidding him
be of good cheer, laid hold of him to draw him forth, as he seemed to
have some difficulty in extricating himself, when the attorney cried
out--
"Do not pull so hard, squire! That accursed Jem Device has got hold of
my legs. Not so hard, sir, I entreat."
"Bid him let go," said Nicholas, unable to refrain from laughing, "or we
will unearth him from his badger's hole."
"He pays no heed to what I say to him," cried Potts. "Oh, dear! oh,
dear! he is dragging me down again!"
And, as he spoke, the attorney, notwithstanding all Nicholas's efforts
to restrain him, was pulled down into the hole. The squire was at a loss
what to do, and was considering whether he should resort to the tedious
process of digging him out, when a scrambling noise was heard, and the
captive's head once more appeared above ground.
"Are you coming out now?" asked Nicholas.
"Alas, no!" replied the attorney, "unless you will make terms with the
rascal. He declares he will strangle me, if you do not promise to set
him and his grandmother free."
"Is Mother Demdike with him?" asked Nicholas.
"To be sure," replied Potts; "and we are as badly off for room as three
foxes in a hole."
"And there is no other outlet said the squire?"
"I conclude not," replied the attorney. "I groped about like a mole when
I was first thrust into the cavern by Jem Device, but I could find no
means of exit. The entrance was blocked up by the great stone which you
had some difficulty in moving, but which Jem could shift at will; for he
pushed it aside in a moment, and brought it back to its place, when he
returned just now with the old hag; but probably that was effected by
witchcraft."
"Most likely," said Nicholas, "But for your being in it, we would stop
up this hole, and bury the two wretches alive."
"Get me out first, good Master Nicholas, I implore of you, and then do
what you please," cried Potts. "Jem is tugging at my legs as if he would
pull them off."
"We will try who is strongest," said Nicholas, again seizing hold of
Potts by the shoulders.
"Oh, dear! oh, dear! I can't bear it--let go!" shrieked the attorney. "I
shall be stretched to twice my natural length. My joints are starting
from their sockets, my legs are coming off--oh! oh!"
"Lend a hand here, one of you," cried Nicholas to the men; "we'll have
him out, whatever be the consequence."
"But I won't come!" roared Potts. "You have no right to use me thus.
Torture! oh! oh! my loins are ruptured--my back is breaking--I am a dead
man.--The hag has got hold of my right leg, while Jem is tugging with
all his force at the left."
"Pull away!" cried Nicholas; "he is coming."
"My legs are off," yelled Potts, as he was plucked suddenly forth, with
a jerk that threw the squire and his assistants on their backs. "I shall
never be able to walk more. No, Heaven be praised!" he added, looking
down on his lower limbs, "I have only lost my boots."
"Never mind it, then," cried Nicholas; "but thank your stars you are
above ground once more. Hark'ee, Jem!" he continued, shouting down the
hole; "If you don't come forth at once, and bring Mother Demdike with
you, we'll close up the mouth of this hole in such a way that you
sha'n't require another grave. D'ye hear?"
"Yeigh," replied Jem, his voice coming hoarsely and hollowly up like the
accents of a ghost. "Am ey to go free if ey comply?"
"Certainly not," replied the squire. "You have a choice between this
hole and the hangman's cord at Lancaster, that is all. In either case
you will die by suffocation. But be quick--we have wasted time enough
already with you."
"Then if that's aw yo'll do fo' me, squire, eyn e'en stay wheere ey am,"
rejoined Jem.
"Very well," replied Nicholas. "Here, my man, stop up this hole with
earth and stones. Master Potts, you will lend a hand to the task."
"Readily, sir," replied the attorney, "though I shall lose the pleasure
I had anticipated of seeing that old carrion crow roasted alive."
"Stay a bit, squoire," roared Jem, as preparations were actively made
for carrying Nicholas's orders into execution. "Stay a bit, an ey'n cum
owt, an bring t' owd woman wi' me."
"I thought you'd change your mind," replied Nicholas, laughing. "Be
upon your guard," he added, in a low tone to the others, "and seize him
the moment he appears."
But Jem evidently found it no easy matter to perform his promise, for
stifled shrieks and other noises proclaimed that a desperate struggle
was going on between him and his grandmother.
"Aha!" exclaimed Nicholas, placing his ear to the hole. "The old hag is
unwilling to come forth, and spits and scratches like a cat-a-mountain,
while Jem gripes her like a terrier. It is a hard tussle between them,
but he is getting the better of it, and is pushing her forth. Now look
out."
And as he spoke, Mother Demdike's terrible head protruded from the
ground, and, despite of the execrations she poured forth upon her
enemies, she was instantly seized by them, drawn out of the cavern, and
secured. While the men were thus engaged, and while Nicholas's attention
was for an instant diverted, Jem bounded forth as suddenly as a wolf
from his lair, and, dashing aside all opposition, plunged down the hill.
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