Part 47 (1/2)

”What! is this the father?” exclaimed Potts, taking out his memorandum-book; ”I must prepare to interrogate him.”

”Sit thee down, Ruchot,-sit thee down, mon,” said Bess, taking his hand kindly, and leading him to a bench. ”Con ey get thee onny thing?”

”Neaw-neaw, Bess,” replied the miller; ”ey ha lost aw ey vallied i' this warlt, an ey care na how soon ey quit it mysel.”

”Neigh, dunna talk on thus, Ruchot,” said Bess, in accents of sincere sympathy. ”Theaw win live to see happier an brighter days.”

”Ey win live to be revenged, Bess,” cried the miller, rising suddenly, and stamping his foot on the ground,-”that accursed witch has robbed me o' my' eart's chief treasure-hoo has crushed a poor innocent os never injured her i' thowt or deed-an has struck the heaviest blow that could be dealt me; but by the heaven above us ey win requite her! A feyther's deep an lasting curse leet on her guilty heoad, an on those of aw her accursed race. Nah rest, neet nor day, win ey know, till ey ha brought em to the stake.”

”Right-right-my good friend-an excellent resolution-bring them to the stake!” cried Potts.

But his enthusiasm was suddenly checked by observing the reeve of the forest peeping from behind the wainscot, and earnestly regarding the miller, and he called the attention of the latter to him.

Richard Baldwyn mechanically followed the expressive gestures of the attorney,-but he saw no one, for the reeve had disappeared.

The incident pa.s.sed unnoticed by the others, who had been, too deeply moved by poor Baldwyn's outburst of grief to pay attention to it.

After a little while Bess Whitaker succeeded in prevailing upon the miller to sit down, and when he became more composed he told her that the funeral procession, consisting of some of his neighbours who had undertaken to attend his ill-fated daughter to her last home, was coming from Rough Lee to Goldshaw, but that, unable to bear them company, he had ridden on by himself. It appeared also, from his muttered threats, that he had meditated some wild project of vengeance against Mother Demdike, which he intended to put into execution, before the day was over; but Master Potts endeavoured to dissuade him from this course, a.s.suring him that the most certain and efficacious mode of revenge he could adopt would be through the medium of the law, and that he would give him his best advice and a.s.sistance in the matter. While they were talking thus, the bell began to toll, and every stroke seemed to vibrate through the heart of the afflicted father, who was at last so overpowered by grief, that the hostess deemed it expedient to lead him into an inner room, where he might indulge his sorrow un.o.bserved.

Without awaiting the issue of this painful scene, Richard, who was much affected by it, went forth, and taking his horse from the stable, with the intention of riding on slowly before the others, led the animal towards the churchyard. When within a short distance of the grey old fabric he paused. The bell continued to toll mournfully, and deepened the melancholy hue of his thoughts. The sad tale he had heard held possession of his mind, and while he pitied poor Mary Baldwyn, he began to entertain apprehensions that Alizon might meet a similar fate. So many strange circ.u.mstances had taken place during the morning's ride; he had listened to so many dismal relations, that, coupled with the dark and mysterious events of the previous night, he was quite bewildered, and felt oppressed as if by a hideous nightmare, which it was impossible to shake off. He thought of Mothers Demdike and Chattox. Could these dread beings be permitted to exercise such baneful influence over mankind? With all the apparent proofs of their power he had received, he still strove to doubt, and to persuade himself that the various cases of witchcraft described to him were only held to be such by the timid and the credulous.

Full of these meditations, he tied his horse to a tree and entered the churchyard, and while pursuing a path shaded by a row of young lime-trees leading to the porch, he perceived at a little distance from him, near the cross erected by Abbot Cliderhow, two persons who attracted his attention. One was the s.e.xton, who was now deep in the grave; and the other an old woman, with her back towards him. Neither had remarked his approach, and, influenced by an unaccountable feeling of curiosity, he stood still to watch their proceedings. Presently, the s.e.xton, who was shovelling out the mould, paused in his task; and the old woman, in a hoa.r.s.e voice, which seemed familiar to the listener, said, ”What hast found, Zachariah?”

Richard Overhears the Mother Chattox and the s.e.xton.

”That which yo lack, mother,” replied the s.e.xton, ”a mazzard wi' aw th' teeth in't.”

”Pluck out eight, and give them me,” replied the hag.

And, as the s.e.xton complied with her injunction, she added, ”Now I must have three scalps.”

”Here they be, mother,” replied Zachariah, uncovering a heap of mould with his spade. ”Two brain-pans bleached loike snow, an the third wi' more hewr on it than ey ha' o' my own sconce. Fro' its size an shape ey should tak it to be a female. Ey ha' laid these three skulls aside fo' ye. Whot dun yo mean to do wi' 'em?”

”Question me not, Zachariah,” said the hag, sternly; ”now give me some pieces of the mouldering coffin, and fill this box with the dust of the corpse it contained.”

The s.e.xton complied with her request.

”Now yo ha' getten aw yo seek, mother,” he said, ”ey wad pray you to tay your departure, fo' the berrin folk win be here presently.”

”I'm going,” replied the hag, ”but first I must have my funeral rites performed-ha! ha! Bury this for me, Zachariah,” she said, giving him a small clay figure. ”Bury it deep, and as it moulders away, may she it represents pine and wither, till she come to the grave likewise!”

”An whoam doth it represent, mother?” asked the s.e.xton, regarding the image with curiosity. ”Ey dunna knoa the feace?”

”How should you know it, fool, since you have never seen her in whose likeness it is made?” replied the hag. ”She is connected with the race I hate.”

”Wi' the Demdikes?” inquired the s.e.xton.

”Ay,” replied the hag, ”with the Demdikes. She pa.s.ses for one of them-but she is not of them. Nevertheless, I hate her as though she were.”