The surprise of the party was by no means diminished when the stranger
spoke. His voice exactly resembled the sharp cracked tones of the
attorney.
"I crave pardon for the freedom I have taken in stopping you, good
masters," he said, doffing his cap, and saluting them respectfully;
"but, being aware of your errand, I am come to attend you on it."
"And who are you, fellow, who thus volunteer your services?" demanded
Roger Nowell, sharply.
"I am one of the reeves of the forest of Blackburnshire, worshipful
sir," replied the stranger, "and as such my presence, at the intended
perambulation of the boundaries of her property, has been deemed
necessary by Mrs. Nutter, as I shall have to make a representation of
the matter at the next court of swainmote."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Nowell, "but how knew you we were coming?"
"Mistress Nutter sent me word last night," replied the reeve, "that
Master Nicholas Assheton and certain other gentlemen, would come to
Rough Lee for the purpose of ascertaining the marks, meres, and
boundaries of her property, early this morning, and desired my
attendance on the occasion. Accordingly I stationed myself on yon high
ground to look out for you, and have been on the watch for more than an
hour."
"Humph!" exclaimed Roger Nowell, "and you live in the forest?"
"I live at Barrowford, worshipful sir," replied the reeve, "but I have
only lately come there, having succeeded Maurice Mottisfont, the other
reeve, who has been removed by the master forester to Rossendale, where
I formerly dwelt."
"That may account for my not having seen you before," rejoined Nowell.
"You are well mounted, sirrah. I did not know the master forester
allowed his men such horses as the one you ride."
"This horse does not belong to me, sir," replied the reeve; "it has been
lent me by Mistress Nutter."
"Aha! I see how it is now," cried Nowell; "you are suborned to give
false testimony, knave. I object to his attendance, Master Nicholas."
"Nay, I think you do the man injustice," said the squire. "He speaks
frankly and fairly enough, and seems to know his business. The worst
that can be said against him is, that he resembles somewhat too closely
our little legal friend there. That, however, ought to be no objection
to you, Master Nowell, but rather the contrary."
"Well, take the responsibility of the matter upon your own shoulders,"
said Nowell; "if any ill comes of it I shall blame you."
"Be it so," replied the squire; "my shoulders are broad enough to bear
the burthen. You may ride with us, master reeve."
"May I inquire your name, friend?" said Potts, as the stranger fell back
to the rear of the party.
"Thomas Potts, at your service, sir," replied the reeve.
"What!--Thomas Potts!" exclaimed the astonished attorney.
"That is my name, sir," replied the reeve, quietly.
"Why, zounds!" exclaimed Nicholas, who overheard the reply, "you do not
mean to say your name is Thomas Potts? This is more wonderful still. You
must be this gentleman's twin brother."
"The gentleman certainly seems to resemble me very strongly," replied
the reeve, apparently surprised in his turn. "Is he of these parts?"
"No, I am not," returned Potts, angrily, "I am from London, where I
reside in Chancery-lane, and practise the law, though I likewise attend
as clerk of the court at the assizes at Lancaster, where I may
possibly, one of these days, have the pleasure of seeing you, my
pretended namesake."
"Possibly, sir," said the reeve, with provoking calmness. "I myself am
from Chester, and like yourself was brought up to the law, but I
abandoned my profession, or rather it abandoned me, for I had few
clients; so I took to an honester calling, and became a forester, as you
see. My father was a draper in the city I have mentioned, and dwelt in
Watergate-street--his name was Peter Potts."
"Peter Potts your father!" exclaimed the attorney, in the last state of
astonishment--"Why, he was mine! But I am his only son."
"Up to this moment I conceived myself an only son," said the reeve; "but
it seems I was mistaken, since I find I have an elder brother."
"Elder brother!" exclaimed Potts, wrathfully. "You are older than I am
by twenty years. But it is all a fabrication. I deny the relationship
entirely."
"You cannot make me other than the son of my father," said the reeve,
with a smile.
"Well, Master Potts," interposed Nicholas, laughing, "I see no reason
why you should be ashamed of your brother. There is a strong family
likeness between you. So old Peter Potts, the draper of Chester, was
your father, eh? I was not aware of the circumstance before--ha, ha!"
"And, but for this intrusive fellow, you would never have become aware
of it," muttered the attorney. "Give ear to me, squire," he said, urging
Flint close up to the other's side, and speaking in a low tone, "I do
not like the fellow's looks at all."
"I am surprised at that," rejoined the squire, "for he exactly resembles
you."
"That is why I do not like him," said Potts; "I believe him to be a
wizard."
"You are no wizard to think so," rejoined the squire. And he rode on to
join Roger Nowell, who was a little in advance.
"I will try him on the subject of witchcraft," thought Potts. "As you
dwell in the forest," he said to the reeve, "you have no doubt seen
those two terrible beings, Mothers Demdike and Chattox."
"Frequently," replied the reeve, "but I would rather not talk about them
in their own territories. You may judge of their power by the appearance
of the village you have just quitted. The inhabitants of that unlucky
place refused them their customary tributes, and have therefore incurred
their resentment. You will meet other instances of the like kind before
you have gone far."
"I am glad of it, for I want to collect as many cases as I can of
witchcraft," observed Potts.
"They will be of little use to you," observed the reeve.
"How so?" inquired Potts.
"Because if the witches discover what you are about, as they will not
fail to do, you will never leave the forest alive," returned the other.
"You think not?" cried Potts.
"I am sure of it," replied the reeve.
"I will not be deterred from the performance of my duty," said Potts. "I
defy the devil and all his works."
"You may have reason to repent your temerity," replied the reeve.
And anxious, apparently, to avoid further conversation on the subject,
he drew in the rein for a moment, and allowed the attorney to pass on.
Notwithstanding his boasting, Master Potts was not without much secret
misgiving; but his constitutional obstinacy made him determine to
prosecute his plans at any risk, and he comforted himself by recalling
the opinion of his sovereign authority on such matters.
"Let me ponder over the exact words of our British Solomon," he thought.
"I have his learned treatise by heart, and it is fortunate my memory
serves me so well, for the sagacious prince's dictum will fortify me in
my resolution, which has been somewhat shaken by this fellow, whom I
believe to be no better than he should be, for all he calls himself my
father's son, and hath assumed my likeness, doubtless for some
mischievous purpose. 'If the magistrate,' saith the King, 'be slothful
towards witches, God is very able to make them instruments to waken and
punish his sloth.' No one can accuse me of slothfulness and want of
zeal. My best exertions have been used against the accursed creatures.
And now for the rest. 'But if, on the contrary, he be diligent in
examining and punishing them, God will not permit their master to
trouble or hinder so good a work!' Exactly what I have done. I am quite
easy now, and shall go on fearlessly as before. I am one of the 'lawful
lieutenants' described by the King, and cannot be 'defrauded or
deprived' of my office."
As these thoughts passed through the attorney's mind a low derisive
laugh sounded in his ears, and, connecting it with the reeve, he looked
back and found the object of his suspicions gazing at him, and chuckling
maliciously. So fiendishly malignant, indeed, was the gaze fixed upon
him, that Potts was glad to turn his head away to avoid it.
"I am confirmed in my suspicions," he thought; "he is evidently a
wizard, if he be not--"
Again the mocking laugh sounded in his ears, but he did not venture to
look round this time, being fearful of once more encountering the
terrible gaze.
Meanwhile the party had traversed the valley, and to avoid a dangerous
morass stretching across its lower extremity, and shorten the
distance--for the ordinary road would have led them too much to the
right--they began to climb one of the ridges of Pendle Hill, which lay
between them and the vale they wished to gain. On obtaining the top of
this eminence, an extensive view on either side opened upon them. Behind
was the sterile valley they had just crossed, its black soil, hoary
grass, and heathy wastes, only enlivened at one end by patches of bright
sulphur-coloured moss, which masked a treacherous quagmire lurking
beneath it. Some of the cottages in Sabden were visible, and, from the
sad circumstances connected with them, and which oppressed the thoughts
of the beholders, added to the dreary character of the prospect. The
day, too, had lost its previous splendour, and there were clouds
overhead which cast deep shadows on the ground. But on the crest of
Pendle Hill, which rose above them, a sun-burst fell, and attracted
attention from its brilliant contrast to the prevailing gloom. Before
them lay a deep gully, the sinuosities of which could be traced from the
elevated position where they stood, though its termination was hidden by
other projecting ridges. Further on, the sides of the mountain were bare
and rugged, and covered with shelving stone. Beyond the defile before
mentioned, and over the last mountain ridge, lay a wide valley, bounded
on the further side by the hills overlooking Colne, and the mountain
defile, now laid open to the travellers, exhibiting in the midst of the
dark heathy ranges, which were its distinguishing features, some marks
of cultivation. In parts it was inclosed and divided into paddocks by
stone walls, and here and there a few cottages were collected together,
dignified, as in the case of Sabden, by the name of a village. Amongst
these were the Hey-houses, an assemblage of small stone tenements, the
earliest that arose in the forest; Goldshaw Booth, now a populous place,
and even then the largest hamlet in the district; and in the distance
Ogden and Barley, the two latter scarcely comprising a dozen
habitations, and those little better than huts. In some sheltered nook
on the hill-side might be discerned the solitary cottage of a cowherd,
and not far from it the certain accompaniment of a sheepfold. Throughout
this weird region, thinly peopled it is true, but still of great extent,
and apparently abandoned to the powers of darkness, only one edifice
could be found where its inhabitants could meet to pray, and this was an
ancient chapel at Goldshaw Booth, originally erected in the reign of
Henry III., though subsequently in part rebuilt in 1544, and which, with
its low grey tower peeping from out the trees, was just discernible. Two
halls were in view; one of which, Sabden, was of considerable antiquity,
and gave its name to the village; and the other was Hoarstones, a much
more recently erected mansion, strikingly situated on an acclivity of
Pendle Hill. In general, the upper parts of this mountain monarch of the
waste were bare and heathy, while the heights overhanging Ogden and
Barley were rocky, shelving, and precipitous; but the lower ridges were
well covered with wood, and a thicket, once forming part of the ancieut
forest, ran far out into the plain near Goldshaw Booth. Numerous springs
burst from the mountain side, and these collecting their forces, formed
a considerable stream, which, under the name of Pendle Water, flowed
through the valley above described, and, after many picturesque
windings, entered the rugged glen in which Rough Lee was situated, and
swept past the foot of Mistress Nutter's residence.
Descending the hill, and passing through the thicket, the party came
within a short distance of Goldshaw Booth, when they were met by a
cowherd, who, with looks of great alarm, told them that John Law, the
pedlar, had fallen down in a fit in the clough, and would perish if they
did not stay to help him. As the poor man in question was well known
both to Nicholas and Roger Nowell, they immediately agreed to go to his
assistance, and accompanied the cowherd along a by-road which led
through the clough to the village. They had not gone far when they heard
loud groans, and presently afterwards found the unfortunate pedlar lying
on his back, and writhing in agony. He was a large, powerfully-built
man, of middle age, and had been in the full enjoyment of health and
vigour, so that his sudden prostration was the more terrible. His face
was greatly disfigured, the mouth and neck drawn awry, the left eye
pulled down, and the whole power of the same side gone.
"Why, John, this is a bad business," cried Nicholas. "You have had a
paralytic stroke, I fear."
"Nah--nah--squoire," replied the sufferer, speaking with difficulty,
"it's neaw nat'ral ailment--it's witchcraft."
"Witchcraft!" exclaimed Potts, who had come up, and producing his
memorandum book. "Another case. Your name and description, friend?"
"John Law o' Cown, pedlar," replied the man.
"John Law of Colne, I suppose, petty chapman," said Potts, making an
entry. "Now, John, my good man, be pleased to tell us by whom you have
been bewitched?"
"By Mother Demdike," groaned the man.
"Mother Demdike, ah?" exclaimed Potts, "good! very good. Now, John, as
to the cause of your quarrel with the old hag?"
"Ey con scarcely rekillect it, my head be so confused, mester," replied
the pedlar.
"Make an effort, John," persisted Potts; "it is most desirable such a
dreadful offender should not escape justice."
"Weel, weel, ey'n try an tell it then," replied the pedlar. "Yo mun knoa
ey wur crossing the hill fro' Cown to Rough Lee, wi' my pack upon my
shouthers, when who should ey meet boh Mother Demdike, an hoo axt me to
gi' her some scithers an pins, boh, os ill luck wad ha' it, ey refused.
'Yo had better do it, John,' hoo said, 'or yo'll rue it efore to-morrow
neet.' Ey laughed at her, an trudged on, boh when I looked back, an seed
her shakin' her skinny hond at me, ey repented and thowt ey would go
back, an gi' her the choice o' my wares. Boh my pride wur too strong, an
ey walked on to Barley an Ogden, an slept at Bess's o th' Booth, an woke
this mornin' stout and strong, fully persuaded th' owd witch's threat
would come to nowt. Alack-a-day! ey wur out i' my reckonin', fo'
scarcely had ey reached this kloof, o' my way to Sabden, than ey wur
seized wi' a sudden shock, os if a thunder-bowt had hit me, an ey lost
the use o' my lower limbs, an t' laft soide, an should ha' deed most
likely, if it hadna bin fo' Ebil o' Jem's o' Dan's who spied me out, an
brought me help."
"Yours is a deplorable case indeed, John," said Richard--"especially if
it be the result of witchcraft."
"You do not surely doubt that it is so, Master Richard?" cried Potts.
"I offer no opinion," replied the young man; "but a paralytic stroke
would produce the same effect. But, instead of discussing the matter,
the best thing we can do will be to transport the poor man to Bess's o'
th' Booth, where he can be attended to."
"Tom and I can carry him there, if Abel will take charge of his pack,"
said one of the grooms.
"That I win," replied the cowherd, unstrapping the box, upon which the
sufferer's head rested, and placing it on his own shoulders.
Meanwhile, a gate having been taken from its hinges by Sparshot and the
reeve, the poor pedlar, who groaned deeply during the operation, was
placed upon it by the men, and borne towards the village, followed by
the others, leading their horses.
Great consternation was occasioned in Goldshaw Booth by the entrance of
the cavalcade, and still more, when it became known that John Law, the
pedlar, who was a favourite with all, had had a frightful seizure. Old
and young flocked forth to see him, and the former shook their heads,
while the latter were appalled at the hideous sight. Master Potts took
care to tell them that the poor fellow was bewitched by Mother Demdike;
but the information failed to produce the effect he anticipated, and
served rather to repress than heighten their sympathy for the sufferer.
The attorney concluded, and justly, that they were afraid of incurring
the displeasure of the vindictive old hag by an open expression of
interest in his fate. So strongly did this feeling operate, that after
bestowing a glance of commiseration at the pedlar, most of them
returned, without a word, to their dwellings.
On their way to the little hostel, whither they were conveying the poor
pedlar, the party passed the church, and the sexton, who was digging a
grave in the yard, came forward to look at them; but on seeing John Law
he seemed to understand what had happened, and resumed his employment. A
wide-spreading yew-tree grew in this part of the churchyard, and near it
stood a small cross rudely carved in granite, marking the spot where, in
the reign of Henry VI., Ralph Cliderhow, tenth abbot of Whalley, held a
meeting of the tenantry, to check encroachments. Not far from this
ancient cross the sexton, a hale old man, with a fresh complexion and
silvery hair, was at work, and while the others went on, Master Potts
paused to say a word to him.
"You have a funeral here to-day, I suppose, Master Sexton?" he said.
"Yeigh," replied the man, gruffly.
"One of the villagers?" inquired the attorney.
"Neaw; hoo were na o' Goldshey," replied the sexton.
"Where then--who was it?" persevered Potts.
The sexton seemed disinclined to answer; but at length said, "Meary
Baldwyn, the miller's dowter o' Rough Lee, os protty a lass os ever yo
see, mester. Hoo wur the apple o' her feyther's ee, an he hasna had a
dry ee sin hoo deed. Wall-a-dey! we mun aw go, owd an young--owd an
young--an protty Meary Baldwyn went young enough. Poor lass! poor lass!"
and he brushed the dew from his eyes with his brawny hand.
"Was her death sudden?" asked Potts.
"Neaw, not so sudden, mester," replied the sexton. "Ruchot Baldwyn had
fair warnin'. Six months ago Meary wur ta'en ill, an fro' t' furst he
knoad how it wad eend."
"How so, friend?" asked Potts, whose curiosity began to be aroused.
"Becose--" replied the sexton, and he stopped suddenly short.
"She was bewitched?" suggested Potts.
The sexton nodded his head, and began to ply his mattock vigorously.
"By Mother Demdike?" inquired Potts, taking out his memorandum book.
The sexton again nodded his head, but spake no word, and, meeting some
obstruction in the ground, took up his pick to remove it.
"Another case!" muttered Potts, making an entry. "Mary Baldwyn, daughter
of Richard Baldwyn of Rough Lee, aged--How old was she, sexton?"
"Throtteen," replied the man; "boh dunna ax me ony more questions,
mester. Th' berrin takes place i' an hour, an ey hanna half digg'd th'
grave."
"Your own name, Master Sexton, and I have done?" said Potts.
"Zachariah Worms," answered the man.
"Worms--ha! an excellent name for a sexton," cried Potts. "You provide
food for your family, eh, Zachariah?"
"Tut--tut," rejoined the sexton, testily, "go an' moind yer own
bus'ness, mon, an' leave me to moind mine."
"Very well, Zachariah," replied Potts. And having obtained all he
required, he proceeded to the little hostel, where, finding the rest of
the party had dismounted, he consigned Flint to a cowherd, and entered
the house.