Part 16 (1/2)
”Very well.”
”Well, I'll tell 'ee the charm:--
Christ was of a Virgin born, And He was p.r.i.c.k'd by a thorn, And it did never throb nor swell, And I trust in Jesus this never will.
Christ was crowned with thorns; The thorns did bleed but did not rot.
No more shall thy finger, In the name of Father, Son and Holy Ghost.
I could not help a creepy feeling coming over me as she uttered the words. I remembered her charming the place where the thorn had been and rubbing some ointment over it, and I also remember how quickly I had ease.
”So, my deer,” she went on, ”tedn't always a bad power that witches have.”
”Well,” I said at length, ”have you asked me to come in here in order that you might tell me this?”
”Not all, my deer. I've wa'anted to show 'ee as ow I've got power, Maaster Roger, and that tedn't oal bad. And I want 'ee to harken to me so that you may not have the Trewinion's curse.”
”Can you stop it?” I asked.
”I weth others can,” she said.
”But the curse of the Trewinion's will not come upon me,” I said, ”for I shall not do anything to incur it.”
”Wa'ant 'ee, but you will, Maaster Roger, and ef you doan't do as I tell 'ee you'll rue it to yer dyin' day. I see it comin', I see it comin',” and she lifted her skinny hand above her head. ”I zee Maaster Roger beggard, I zee un starvin', I zee un mad wi' shame, I zee un ouseless, and omeless, I zee hes brother where he ought to be oal through Trewinion's curse.”
In spite of myself I felt the old woman to be speaking the truth.
”But I will abide by everything written for my safety,” I said.
”You ca'ant, you ca'ant,” she screamed.
”Why?” I asked.
”You were born in a onlucky month, and the onlucky week of the month, and a onlucky day of the week, and an onlucky time ov the day.”
”Why, when was I born?”
”You was born at nine o'clock ov a Friday evenin', in the third week in May,” she said.
”And I can do nothing to avert the curse?”
”No, but I can.”
”How?”
”Will 'ee come wi' me to Betsey Fraddam's cave?”
”When?”
”To-night.”