The lane along which Richard Assheton galloped in pursuit of Mother
Chattox, made so many turns, and was, moreover, so completely hemmed in
by high banks and hedges, that he could sec nothing on either side of
him, and very little in advance; but, guided by the clatter of hoofs, he
urged Merlin to his utmost speed, fancying he should soon come up with
the fugitives. In this, however, he was deceived. The sound that had led
him on became fainter and fainter, till at last it died away altogether;
and on quitting the lane and gaining the moor, where the view was wholly
uninterrupted, no traces either of witch or reeve could be discerned.
With a feeling of angry disappointment, Richard was about to turn back,
when a large black greyhound came from out an adjoining clough, and
made towards him. The singularity of the circumstance induced him to
halt and regard the dog with attention. On nearing him, the animal
looked wistfully in his face, and seemed to invite him to follow; and
the young man was so struck by the dog's manner, that he complied, and
had not gone far when a hare of unusual size and grey with age bounded
from beneath a gorse-bush and speeded away, the greyhound starting in
pursuit.
Aware of the prevailing notion, that a witch most commonly assumed such
a form when desirous of escaping, or performing some act of mischief,
such as drying the milk of kine, Richard at once came to the conclusion
that the hare could be no other than Mother Chattox; and without pausing
to inquire what the hound could be, or why it should appear at such a
singular and apparently fortunate juncture, he at once joined the run,
and cheered on the dog with whoop and holloa.
Old as it was, apparently, the hare ran with extraordinary swiftness,
clearing every stone wall and other impediment in the way, and more than
once cunningly doubling upon its pursuers. But every feint and stratagem
were defeated by the fleet and sagacious hound, and the hunted animal at
length took to the open waste, where the run became so rapid, that
Richard had enough to do to keep up with it, though Merlin, almost as
furiously excited as his master, strained every sinew to the task.
In this way the chasers and the chased scoured the dark and heathy
plain, skirting moss-pool and clearing dyke, till they almost reached
the but-end of Pendle Hill, which rose like an impassable barrier before
them. Hitherto the chances had seemed in favour of the hare; but they
now began to turn, and as it seemed certain she must fall into the
hound's jaws, Richard expected every moment to find her resume her
natural form. The run having brought him within, a quarter of a mile of
Barley, the rude hovels composing which little booth were clearly
discernible, the young man began to think the hag's dwelling must he
among them, and that she was hurrying thither as to a place of refuge.
But before this could be accomplished, he hoped to effect her capture,
and once more cheered on the hound, and plunged his spurs into Merlin's
sides. An obstacle, however, occurred which he had not counted on.
Directly in the course taken by the hare lay a deep, disused limestone
quarry, completely screened from view by a fringe of brushwood. When
within a few yards of this pit, the hound made a dash at the flying
hare, but eluding him, the latter sprang forward, and both went over the
edge of the quarry together. Richard had wellnigh followed, and in that
case would have been inevitably dashed in pieces; but, discovering the
danger ere it was too late, by a powerful effort, which threw Merlin
upon his haunches, he pulled him back on the very brink of the pit.
The young man shuddered as he gazed into the depths of the quarry, and
saw the jagged points and heaps of broken stone that would have received
him; but he looked in vain for the old witch, whose mangled body,
together with that of the hound, he expected to behold; and he then
asked himself whether the chase might not have been a snare set for him
by the hag and her familiar, with the intent of luring him to
destruction. If so, he had been providentially preserved.
Quitting the pit, his first idea was to proceed to Barley, which was now
only a few hundred yards off, to make inquiries respecting Mother
Chattox, and ascertain whether she really dwelt there; but, on further
consideration, he judged it best to return without further delay to
Goldshaw, lest his friends, ignorant as to what had befallen him, might
become alarmed on his account; but he resolved, as soon as he had
disposed of the business in hand, to prosecute his search after the hag.
Riding rapidly, he soon cleared the ground between the quarry and
Goldshaw Lane, and was about to enter the latter, when the sound of
voices singing a funeral hymn caught his ear, and, pausing to listen to
it, he beheld a little procession, the meaning of which he readily
comprehended, wending its slow and melancholy way in the same direction
as himself. It was headed by four men in deep mourning, bearing upon
their shoulders a small coffin, covered with a pall, and having a
garland of white flowers in front of it. Behind them followed about a
dozen young men and maidens, likewise in mourning, walking two and two,
with gait and aspect of unfeigned affliction. Many of the women, though
merely rustics, seemed to possess considerable personal attraction; but
their features were in a great measure concealed by their large white
kerchiefs, disposed in the form of hoods. All carried sprigs of rosemary
and bunches of flowers in their hands. Plaintive was the hymn they sang,
and their voices, though untaught, were sweet and touching, and went to
the heart of the listener.
Much moved, Richard suffered the funeral procession to precede him along
the deep and devious lane, and as it winded beneath the hedges, the
sight was inexpressibly affecting. Fastening his horse to a tree at the
end of the lane, Richard followed on foot. Notice of the approach of the
train having been given in the village, all the inhabitants flocked
forth to meet it, and there was scarcely a dry eye among them. Arrived
within a short distance of the church, the coffin was met by the
minister, attended by the clerk, behind whom came Roger Nowell,
Nicholas, and the rest of the company from the hostel. With great
difficulty poor Baldwyn could be brought to take his place as chief
mourner. These arrangements completed, the body of the ill-fated girl
was borne into the churchyard, the minister reading the solemn texts
appointed for the occasion, and leading the way to the grave, beside
which stood the sexton, together with the beadle of Goldshaw and
Sparshot. The coffin was then laid on trestles, and amidst profound
silence, broken only by the sobs of the mourners, the service was read,
and preparations made for lowering the body into the grave.
Then it was that poor Baldwyn, with a wild, heart-piercing cry, flung
himself upon the shell containing all that remained of his lost
treasure, and could with difficulty be removed from it by Bess and
Sudall, both of whom were in attendance. The bunches of flowers and
sprigs of rosemary having been laid upon the coffin by the maidens,
amidst loud sobbing and audibly expressed lamentations from the
bystanders, it was let down into the grave, and earth thrown over it.
Earth to earth; ashes to ashes; dust to dust.
The ceremony was over, the mourners betook themselves to the little
hostel, and the spectators slowly dispersed; but the bereaved father
still lingered, unable to tear himself away. Leaning for support against
the yew-tree, he fiercely bade Bess, who would have led him home with
her, begone. The kind-hearted hostess complied in appearance, but
remained nigh at hand though concealed from view.
Once more the dark cloud overshadowed the spirit of the wretched
man--once more the same infernal desire of vengeance possessed him--once
more he subjected himself to temptation. Striding to the foot of the
grave he raised his hand, and with terrible imprecations vowed to lay
the murtheress of his child as low as she herself was now laid. At that
moment he felt an eye like a burning-glass fixed upon him, and, looking
up, beheld the reeve of the forest standing on the further side of the
grave.
"Kneel down, and swear to be mine, and your wish shall be gratified,"
said the reeve.
Beside himself with grief and rage, Baldwyn would have complied, but he
was arrested by a powerful grasp. Fearing he was about to commit some
rash act, Bess rushed forward and caught hold of his doublet.
"Bethink thee whot theaw has just heerd fro' t' minister, Ruchot," she
cried in a voice of solemn warning. "'Blessed are the dead that dee i'
the Lord, for they rest fro their labours.' An again, 'Suffer us not at
our last hour, for onny pains o' death, to fa' fro thee.' Oh Ruchot,
dear! fo' the love theaw hadst fo' thy poor chilt, who is now delivert
fro' the burthen o' th' flesh, an' dwellin' i' joy an felicity wi' God
an his angels, dunna endanger thy precious sowl. Pray that theaw may'st
depart hence i' th' Lord, wi' whom are the sowls of the faithful, an
Meary's, ey trust, among the number. Pray that thy eend may be like
hers."
"Ey conna pray, Bess," replied the miller, striking his breast. "The
Lord has turned his feace fro' me."
"Becose thy heart is hardened, Ruchot," she replied. "Theaw 'rt
nourishin' nowt boh black an wicked thowts. Cast em off ye, I adjure
thee, an come whoam wi me."
Meanwhile, the reeve had sprung across the grave.
"Thy answer at once," he said, grasping the miller's arm, and breathing
the words in his ears. "Vengeance is in thy power. A word, and it is
thine."
The miller groaned bitterly. He was sorely tempted.
"What is that mon sayin' to thee, Ruchot?" inquired Bess.
"Dunna ax, boh tak me away," he answered. "Ey am lost else."
"Let him lay a finger on yo if he dare," said Bess, sturdily.
"Leave him alone--yo dunna knoa who he is," whispered the miller.
"Ey con partly guess," she rejoined; "boh ey care nother fo' mon nor
dule when ey'm acting reetly. Come along wi' me, Ruchot."
"Fool!" cried the reeve, in the same low tone as before; "you will lose
your revenge, but you will not escape me."
And he turned away, while Bess almost carried the trembling and
enfeebled miller towards the hostel.
Roger Nowell and his friends had only waited the conclusion of the
funeral to set forth, and their horses being in readiness, they mounted
them on leaving the churchyard, and rode slowly along the lane leading
towards Rough Lee. The melancholy scene they had witnessed, and the
afflicting circumstances connected with it, had painfully affected the
party, and little conversation occurred until they were overtaken by
Parson Holden, who, having been made acquainted with their errand by
Nicholas, was desirous of accompanying them. Soon after this, also, the
reeve of the forest joined them, and on seeing him, Richard sternly
demanded why he had aided Mother Chattox in her night from the
churchyard, and what had become of her.
"You are entirely mistaken, sir," replied the reeve, with affected
astonishment. "I have seen nothing whatever of the old hag, and would
rather lend a hand to her capture than abet her flight. I hold all
witches in abhorrence, and Mother Chattox especially so."
"Your horse looks fresh enough, certainly," said Richard, somewhat
shaken in his suspicions. "Where have you been during our stay at
Goldshaw? You did not put up at the hostel?"
"I went to Farmer Johnson's," replied the reeve, "and you will find upon
inquiry that my horse has not been out of his stables for the last hour.
I myself have been loitering about Bess's grange and farmyard, as your
grooms will testify, for they have seen me."
"Humph!" exclaimed Richard, "I suppose I must credit assertions made
with such confidence, but I could have sworn I saw you ride off with the
hag behind you."
"I hope I shall never be caught in such bad company, sir," replied the
reeve, with a laugh. "If I ride off with any one, it shall not be with
an old witch, depend upon it."
Though by no means satisfied with the explanation, Richard was forced to
be content with it; but he thought he would address a few more questions
to the reeve.
"Have you any knowledge," he said, "when the boundaries of Pendle Forest
were first settled and appointed?"
"The first perambulation was made by Henry de Lacy, about the middle of
the twelfth century," replied the reeve. "Pendle Forest, you may be
aware, sir, is one of the four divisions of the great forest of
Blackburnshire, of which the Lacys were lords, the three other divisions
being Accrington, Trawden, and Rossendale, and it comprehends an extent
of about twenty-five miles, part of which you have traversed to-day. At
a later period, namely in 1311, after the death of another Henry de
Lacy, Earl of Lincoln, the last of his line, and one of the bravest of
Edward the First's barons, an inquisition was held in the forest, and it
was subdivided into eleven vaccaries, one of which is the place to which
you are bound, Rough Lee."
"The learned Sir Edward Coke defines a vaccary to signify a dairy,"
observed Potts.
"Here it means the farm and land as well," replied the reeve; "and the
word 'booth,' which is in general use in this district, signifies the
mansion erected upon such vaccary: Mistress Nutter's residence, for
instance, being nothing more than the booth of Rough Lee: while a
'lawnd,' another local term, is a park inclosed within the forest for
the preservation of the deer, and the convenience of the chase, and of
such inclosures we have two, namely, the Old and New Lawnd. By a
commission in the reign of Henry VII., these vaccaries, originally
granted only to tenants at will, were converted into copyholds of
inheritance, but--and here is a legal point for your consideration,
Master Potts--as it seems very questionable whether titles obtained
under letters-patent are secure, not unreasonable fears are entertained
by the holders of the lands lest they should be seized, and appropriated
by the crown."
"Ah! ah! an excellent idea, Master Reeve," exclaimed Potts, his little
eyes twinkling with pleasure. "Our gracious and sagacious monarch would
grasp at the suggestion, ay, and grasp at the lands too--ha! ha! Many
thanks for the hint, good reeve. I will not fail to profit by it. If
their titles are uncertain, the landholders would be glad to compromise
the matter with the crown, even to the value of half their estates
rather than lose the whole."
"Most assuredly they would," replied the reeve; "and furthermore, they
would pay the lawyer well who could manage the matter adroitly for them.
This would answer your purpose better than hunting up witches, Master
Potts."
"One pursuit does not interfere with the other in the slightest degree,
worthy reeve," observed Potts. "I cannot consent to give up my quest of
the witches. My honour is concerned in their extermination. But to turn
to Pendle Forest--the greater part of it has been disafforested, I
presume?"
"It has," replied the other--"and we are now in one of the purlieus."
"Pourallee is the better word, most excellent reeve," said Potts. "I
tell you thus much, because you appear to be a man of learning. Manwood,
our great authority in such matters, declares a pourallee to be 'a
certain territory of ground adjoining unto the forest, mered and bounded
with immovable marks, meres, and boundaries, known by matter of record
only.' And as it applies to the perambulation we are about to make, I
may as well repeat what the same learned writer further saith touching
marks, meres, and boundaries, and how they may be known. 'For although,'
he saith, 'a forest doth lie open, and not inclosed with hedge, ditch,
pale, or stone-wall, which some other inclosures have; yet in the eye
and consideration of the law, the same hath as strong an inclosure by
those marks, meres, and boundaries, as if there were a brick wall to
encircle the same.' Marks, learned reeve, are deemed unremovable--
_primo, quia omnes metæ forestæ sunt integræ domino regi_--and those
who take them away are punishable for the trespass at the assizes of
the forest. _Secundo_, because the marks are things that cannot be
stirred, as rivers, highways, hills, and the like. Now, such
unremoveable marks, meres, and boundaries we have between the estate of
my excellent client, Master Roger Nowell, and that of Mistress Nutter,
so that the matter at issue will be easily decided."
A singular smile crossed the reeve's countenance, but he made no
observation.
"Unless the lady can turn aside streams, remove hills, and pluck up huge
trees, we shall win," pursued Potts, with a chuckle.
Again the reeve smiled, but he forebore to speak.
"You talk of marks, meres, and boundaries, Master Potts," remarked
Richard. "Are not the words synonymous?"
"Not precisely so, sir," replied the attorney; "there is a slight
difference in their signification, which I will explain to you. The
words of the statute are '_metas, meras, et bundas_,'--now _meta_, or
mark, is an object rising from the ground, as a church, a wall, or a
tree; _mera_, or mere, is the space or interval between the forest and
the land adjoining, whereupon the mark may chance to stand; and _bunda_
is the boundary, lying on a level with the forest, as a river, a
highway, a pool, or a bog."
"I comprehend the distinction," replied Richard. "And now, as we are on
this subject," he added to the reeve, "I would gladly know the precise
nature of your office?"
"My duty," replied the other, "is to range daily throughout all the
purlieus, or pourallees, as Master Potts more properly terms them, and
disafforested lands, and inquire into all trespasses and offences
against vert or venison, and present them at the king's next court of
attachment or swainmote. It is also my business to drive into the forest
such wild beasts as have strayed from it; to attend to the lawing and
expeditation of mastiffs; and to raise hue and cry against any
malefactors or trespassers within the forest."
"I will give you the exact words of the statute," said Potts--'_Si quis
viderit malefactores infra metas forestæ, debet illos capere secundum
posse suum, et si non possit; debet levare hutesium et clamorem_.' And
the penalty for refusing to follow hue and cry is heavy fine."
"I would that that part of your duty relating to the hock-sinewing, and
lawing of mastiffs, could be discontinued," said Richard. "I grieve to
see a noble animal so mutilated."
"In Bowland Forest, as you are probably aware, sir," rejoined the reeve,
"only the larger mastiffs are lamed, a small stirrup or gauge being kept
by the master forester, Squire Robert Parker of Browsholme, and the dog
whose foot will pass through it escapes mutilation."
"The practice is a cruel one, and I would it were abolished with some of
our other barbarous forest laws," observed Richard.
While this conversation had been going on, the party had proceeded well
on their way. For some time the road, which consisted of little more
than tracts of wheels along the turf, led along a plain, thrown up into
heathy hillocks, and then passing through a thicket, evidently part of
the old forest, it brought them to the foot of a hill, which they
mounted, and descended into another valley. Here they came upon Pendle
Water, and while skirting its banks, could see at a great depth below,
the river rushing over its rocky bed like an Alpine torrent. The scenery
had now begun to assume a savage and sombre character. The deep rift
through which the river ran was evidently the result of some terrible
convulsion of the earth, and the rocky strata were strangely and
fantastically displayed. On the further side the banks rose up
precipitously, consisting for the most part of bare cliffs, though now
and then a tree would root itself in some crevice. Below this the stream
sank over a wide shelf of rock, in a broad full cascade, and boiled and
foamed in the stony basin that received it, after which, grown less
impetuous, it ran tranquilly on for a couple of hundred yards, and was
then artificially restrained by a dam, which, diverting it in part from
its course, caused it to turn the wheels of a mill. Here was the abode
of the unfortunate Richard Baldwyn, and here had blossomed forth the
fair flower so untimely gathered. An air of gloom hung over this once
cheerful spot: its very beauty contributing to this saddening effect.
The mill-race flowed swiftly and brightly on; but the wheel was
stopped, windows and doors were closed, and death kept his grim holiday
undisturbed. No one was to be seen about the premises, nor was any sound
heard except the bark of the lonely watch-dog. Many a sorrowing glance
was cast at this forlorn habitation as the party rode past it, and many
a sigh was heaved for the poor girl who had so lately been its pride and
ornament; but if any one had noticed the bitter sneer curling the
reeve's lip, or caught the malignant fire gleaming in his eye, it would
scarcely have been thought that he shared in the general regret.
After the cavalcade had passed the mill, one or two other cottages
appeared on the near side of the river, while the opposite banks began
to be clothed with timber. The glen became more and more contracted, and
a stone bridge crossed the stream, near which, and on the same side of
the river as the party, stood a cluster of cottages constituting the
little village of Rough Lee.
On reaching the bridge, Mistress Nutter's habitation came in view, and
it was pointed out by Nicholas to Potts, who contemplated it with much
curiosity. In his eyes it seemed exactly adapted to its owner, and
formed to hide dark and guilty deeds. It was a stern, sombre-looking
mansion, built of a dark grey stone, with tall square chimneys, and
windows with heavy mullions. High stone walls, hoary and moss-grown, ran
round the gardens and courts, except on the side of the river, where
there was a terrace overlooking the stream, and forming a pleasant
summer's walk. At the back of the house were a few ancient oaks and
sycamores, and in the gardens were some old clipped yews.
Part of this ancient mansion is still standing, and retains much of its
original character, though subdivided and tenanted by several humble
families. The garden is cut up into paddocks, and the approach environed
by a labyrinth of low stone walls, while miserable sheds and other
buildings are appended to it; the terrace is wholly obliterated; and the
grange and offices are pulled down, but sufficient is still left of the
place to give an idea of its pristine appearance and character. Its
situation is striking and peculiar. In front rises a high hill, forming
the last link of the chain of Pendle, and looking upon Barrowford and
Colne, on the further side of which, and therefore not discernible from
the mansion, stood Malkin Tower. At the period in question the lower
part of this hill was well wooded, and washed by the Pendle Water, which
swept past it through banks picturesque and beautiful, though not so
bold and rocky as those in the neighbourhood of the mill. In the rear of
the house the ground gradually rose for more than a quarter of a mile,
when it obtained a considerable elevation, following the course of the
stream, and looking down the gorge, another hill appeared, so that the
house was completely shut in by mountainous acclivities. In winter,
when the snow lay on the heights, or when the mists hung upon them for
weeks together, or descended in continuous rain, Rough Lee was
sufficiently desolate, and seemed cut off from all communication with
the outer world; but at the season when the party beheld it, though the
approaches were rugged and difficult, and almost inaccessible except to
the horseman or pedestrian, bidding defiance to any vehicle except of
the strongest construction, still the place was not without a certain
charm, mainly, however, derived from its seclusion. The scenery was
stern and sombre, the hills were dark and dreary; but the very wildness
of the place was attractive, and the old house, with its grey walls, its
lofty chimneys, its gardens with their clipped yews, and its
rook-haunted trees, harmonised well with all around it.
As the party drew near the house, the gates were thrown open by an old
porter with two other servants, who besought them to stay and partake of
some refreshment; but Roger Nowell haughtily and peremptorily declined
the invitation, and rode on, and the others, though some of them would
fain have complied, followed him.
Scarcely were they gone, than James Device, who had been in the garden,
issued from the gate and speeded after them.
Passing through a close at the back of the mansion, and tracking a short
narrow lane, edged by stone walls, the party, which had received some
accessions from the cottages of Rough Lee, as well as from the huts on
the hill-side, again approached the river, and proceeded along its
banks.
The new-comers, being all of them tenants of Mrs. Nutter, and acting
apparently under the directions of James Device, who had now joined the
troop, stoutly and loudly maintained that the lady would be found right
in the inquiry, with the exception of one old man named Henry Mitton;
and he shook his head gravely when appealed to by Jem, and could by no
efforts be induced to join him in the clamour.
Notwithstanding this demonstration, Roger Nowell and his legal adviser
were both very sanguine as to the result of the survey being in their
favour, and Master Potts turned to ascertain from Sparshot that the two
plans, which had been rolled up and consigned to his custody, were quite
safe.
Meanwhile, the party having followed the course of Pendle Water through
the glen for about half a mile, during which they kept close to the
brawling current, entered a little thicket, and then striking off on the
left, passed over the foot of a hill, and came to the edge of a wide
moor, where a halt was called by Nowell.
It being now announced that they were on the confines of the disputed
property, preparations were immediately made for the survey; the plans
were taken out of a quiver, in which they had been carefully deposited
by Sparshot, and handed to Potts, who, giving one to Roger Nowell and
the other to Nicholas, and opening his memorandum-book, declared that
all was ready, and the two leaders rode slowly forward, while the rest
of the troop followed, their curiosity being stimulated to the highest
pitch.
Presently Roger Nowell again stopped, and pointed to a woody brake.
"We are now come," he said, "to a wood forming part of my property, and
which from an eruption, caused by a spring, that took place in it many
years ago, is called Burst Clough."
"Exactly, sir--exactly," cried Potts; "Burst Clough--I have it
here--landmarks, five grey stones, lying apart at a distance of one
hundred yards or thereabouts, and giving you, sir, twenty acres of moor
land. Is it not so, Master Nicholas? The marks are such as I have
described, eh?"
"They are, sir," replied the squire; "with this slight difference in the
allotment of the land--namely, that Mistress Nutter claims the twenty
acres, while she assigns you only ten."
"Ten devils!" cried Roger Nowell, furiously. "Twenty acres are mine, and
I will have them."
"To the proof, then," rejoined Nicholas. "The first of the grey stones
is here."
"And the second on the left, in that hollow," said Roger Nowell. "Come
on, my masters, come on."
"Ay, come on!" cried Nicholas; "this perambulation will be rare sport.
Who wins, for a piece of gold, cousin Richard?"
"Nay, I will place no wager on the event," replied the young man.
"Well, as you please," cried the squire; "but I would lay five to one
that Mistress Nutter beats the magistrate."
Meanwhile, the whole troop having set forward, they soon arrived at the
second stone. Grey and moss-grown, it was deeply imbedded in the soil,
and to all appearance had rested undisturbed for many a year.
"You measure from the clough, I presume, sir?" remarked Potts to Nowell.
"To be sure," replied the magistrate; "but how is this?--This stone
seems to me much nearer the clough than it used to be."
"Yeigh, so it dun, mester," observed old Mitton.
"It does not appear to have been disturbed, at all events," said
Nicholas, dismounting and examining it.
"It would seem not," said Nowell--"and yet it certainly is not in its
old place."
"Yo are mistaen, mester," observed Jem Device; "ey knoa th' lond weel,
an this stoan has stood where it does fo' t' last twenty year. Ha'n't
it, neeburs?"
"Yeigh--yeigh," responded several voices.
"Well, let us go on to the next stone," said Potts, looking rather
blank.
Accordingly they went forward, the hinds exchanging significant looks,
and Roger Nowell and Nicholas carefully examining their respective maps.
"These landmarks exactly tally with my plan," said the squire, as they
arrived at the third stone.
"But not with mine," said Nowell; "this stone ought to be two hundred
yards to the right. Some trickery has been practised."
"Impossible!" exclaimed the squire; "these ponderous masses could never
have been moved. Besides, there are several persons here who know every
inch of the ground, and will give you their unbiassed testimony. What
say you, my men? Are these the old boundary stones?"
All answered in the affirmative except old Mitton, who still raised a
dissenting voice.
"They be th' owd boundary marks, sure enough," he said; "boh they are
neaw i' their owd places."
"It is quite clear that the twenty acres belong to Mistress Nutter,"
observed Nicholas, "and that you must content yourself with ten, Master
Nowell. Make an entry to that effect, Master Potts, unless you will have
the ground measured."
"No, it is needless," replied the magistrate, sharply; "let us go on."
During this survey, some of the features of the country appeared changed
to the rustics, but how or in what way they could not precisely tell,
and they were easily induced by James Device to give their testimony in
Mistress Nutter's favour.
A small rivulet was now reached, and another halt being called upon its
sedgy banks, the plans were again consulted.
"What have we here, Master Potts--marks or boundaries?" inquired
Richard, with a smile.
"Both," replied Potts, angrily. "This rivulet, which I take to be Moss
Brook, is a boundary, and that sheepfold and the two posts standing in a
line with it are marks. But hold! how is this?" he cried, regarding the
plan in dismay; "the five acres of waste land should be on the left of
the brook."
"It would doubtless suit Master Nowell better if it were so," said
Nicholas; "but as they chance to be on the right, they belong to
Mistress Nutter. I merely speak from the plan."
"Your plan is naught, sir," cried Nowell, furiously, "By what foul
practice these changes have been wrought I pretend not to say, though I
can give a good guess; but the audacious witch who has thus deluded me
shall bitterly rue it."
"Hold, hold, Master Nowell!" rejoined Nicholas; "I can make great
allowance for your anger, which is natural considering your
disappointment, but I will not permit such unwarrantable insinuations to
be thrown out against Mistress Nutter. You agreed to abide by Sir Ralph
Assheton's award, and you must not complain if it be made against you.
Do you imagine that this stream can have changed its course in a single
night; or that yon sheepfold has been removed to the further side of
it?"
"I do," replied Nowell.
"And so do I," cried Potts; "it has been accomplished by the aid of--"
But feeling himself checked by a glance from the reeve, he stammered
out, "of--of Mother Demdike."
"You declared just now that marks, meres, and boundaries, were
unremovable, Master Potts," said the reeve, with a sneer; "you have
altered your opinion."
The crestfallen attorney was dumb.
"Master Roger Nowell must find some better plea than the imputation of
witchcraft to set aside Mistress Nutter's claim," observed Richard.
"Yeigh, that he mun," cried James Device, and the hinds who supported
him.
The magistrate bit his lips with vexation.
"There is witchcraft in it, I repeat," he said.
"Yeigh, that there be," responded old Mitton.
But the words were scarcely uttered, when he was felled to the ground by
the bludgeon of James Device.
"Ey'd sarve thee i' t' same way, fo' two pins," said Jem, regarding
Potts with a savage look.
"No violence, Jem," cried Nicholas, authoritatively--"you do harm to the
cause you would serve by your outrageous conduct."
"Beg pardon, squoire," replied Jem, "boh ey winna hear lies towd abowt
Mistress Nutter."
"No one shan speak ill on her here," cried the hinds.
"Well, Master Nowell," said Nicholas, "are you willing to concede the
matter at once, or will you pursue the investigation further?"
"I will ascertain the extent of the mischief done to me before I stop,"
rejoined the magistrate, angrily.
"Forward, then," cried Nicholas. "Our course now lies along this
footpath, with a croft on the left, and an old barn on the right. Here
the plans correspond, I believe, Master Potts?"
The attorney yielded a reluctant assent.
"There is next a small spring and trough on the right, and we then come
to a limestone quarry--then by a plantation called Cat Gallows Wood--so
named, because some troublesome mouser has been hanged there, I suppose,
and next by a deep moss-pit, called Swallow Hole. All right, eh, Master
Potts? We shall now enter upon Worston Moor, and come to the hut
occupied by Jem Device, who can, it is presumed, speak positively as to
its situation."
"Very true," cried Potts, as if struck by an idea. "Let the rascal step
forward. I wish to put a few questions to him respecting his tenement.
I think I shall catch him now," he added in a low tone to Nowell.
"Here ey be," cried Jem, stepping up with an insolent and defying look.
"Whot d'ye want wi' me?"
"First of all I would caution you to speak the truth," commenced Potts,
impressively, "as I shall take down your answers in my memorandum book,
and they will be produced against you hereafter."
"If he utters a falsehood I will commit him," said Roger Nowell,
sharply.
"Speak ceevily, an ey win gi' yo a ceevil answer," rejoined Jem, in a
surly tone; "boh ey'm nah to be browbeaten."
"First, then, is your hut in sight?" asked Potts.
"Neaw," replied Jem.
"But you can point out its situation, I suppose?" pursued the attorney.
"Sartinly ey con," replied Jem, without heeding a significant glance
cast at him by the reeve. "It stonds behind yon kloof, ot soide o' t'
moor, wi' a rindle in front."
"Now mind what you say, sirrah," cried Potts. "You are quite sure the
hut is behind the clough; and the rindle, which, being interpreted from
your base vernacular, I believe means a gutter, in front of it?"
The reeve coughed slightly, but failed to attract Jem's attention, who
replied quickly, that he was quite sure of the circumstances.
"Very well," said Potts--"you have all heard the answer. He is quite
sure as to what he states. Now, then, I suppose you can tell whether the
hut looks to the north or the south; whether the door opens to the moor
or to the clough; and whether there is a path leading from it to a spot
called Hook Cliff?"
At this moment Jem caught the eye of the reeve, and the look given him
by the latter completely puzzled him.
"Ey dunna reetly recollect which way it looks," he answered.
"What! you prevaricating rascal, do you pretend to say that you do not
know which way your own dwelling stands," thundered Roger Nowell. "Speak
out, sirrah, or Sparshot shall take you into custody at once."
"Ey'm ready, your worship," replied the beadle.
"Weel, then," said Jem, imperfectly comprehending the signs made to him
by the reeve, "the hut looks nather to t' south naw to t' north, but to
t' west; it feaces t' moor; an there is a path fro' it to Hook Cliff."
As he finished speaking, he saw from the reeve's angry gestures that he
had made a mistake, but it was now too late to recall his words.
However, he determined to make an effort.
"Now ey bethink me, ey'm naw sure that ey'm reet," he said.
"You must be sure, sirrah," said Roger Nowell, bending his awful brows
upon him. "You cannot be mistaken as to your own dwelling. Take down his
description, Master Potts, and proceed with your interrogatories if you
have any more to put to him."
"I wish to ask him whether he has been at home to-day," said Potts.
"Answer, fellow," thundered the magistrate.
Before replying, Jem would fain have consulted the reeve, but the latter
had turned away in displeasure. Not knowing whether a lie would serve
his turn, and fearing he might be contradicted by some of the
bystanders, he said he had not been at home for two days, but had
returned the night before at a late hour from Whalley, and had slept at
Rough Lee.
"Then you cannot tell what changes may have taken place in your dwelling
during your absence?" said Potts.
"Of course not," replied Jem, "boh ey dunna see how ony chawnges con ha'
happent i' so short a time."
"But I do, if you do not, sirrah," said Potts. "Be pleased to give me
your plan, Master Newell. I have a further question to ask him," he
added, after consulting it for a moment.
"Ey win awnser nowt more," replied Jem, gruffly.
"You will answer whatever questions Master Potts may put to you, or you
are taken into custody," said the magistrate, sternly.
Jem would have willingly beaten a retreat; but being surrounded by the
two grooms and Sparshot, who only waited a sign from Nowell to secure
him, or knock him down if he attempted to fly, he gave a surly
intimation that he was ready to speak.
"You are aware that a dyke intersects the heath before us, namely,
Worston Moor?" said Potts.
Jem nodded his head.
"I must request particular attention to your plan as I proceed, Master
Nicholas," pursued the attorney. "I now wish to be informed by you,
James Device, whether that dyke cuts through the middle of the moor, or
traverses the side; and if so, which side? I desire also to be informed
where it commences, and where, it ends?"
Jem scratched his head, and reflected a moment.
"The matter does not require consideration, sirrah," cried Nowell. "I
must have an instant answer."
"So yo shan," replied Jem; "weel, then, th' dyke begins near a little
mound ca'd Turn Heaod, about a hundert yards fro' my dwellin', an runs
across th' easterly soide o't moor till it reaches Knowl Bottom."
"You will swear this?" cried Potts, scarcely able to conceal his
satisfaction.
"Swere it! eigh," replied Jem.
"Eigh, we'n aw swere it," chorused the hinds.
"I'm delighted to hear it," cried Potts, radiant with delight, "for
your description corresponds exactly with Master Nowell's plan, and
differs materially from that of Mistress Nutter, as Squire Nicholas
Assheton will tell you."
"I cannot deny it," replied Nicholas, in some confusion.
"Ey should ha' said 'westerly' i' stead o' 'yeasterly,'" cried Jem, "boh
yo puzzle a mon so wi' your lawyerly questins, that he dusna knoa his
reet hond fro' his laft."
"Yeigh, yeigh, we aw meant to say 'yeasterly,'" added the hinds.
"You have sworn the contrary," cried Nowell. "Secure him," he added to
the grooms and Sparshot, "and do not let him go till we have completed
the survey. We will now see how far the reality corresponds with the
description, and what further devilish tricks have been played with the
property."
Upon this the troop was again put in motion, James Device walking
between the two grooms, with Sparshot behind him.
So wonderfully elated was Master Potts by the successful hit he had just
made, and which, in his opinion, quite counterbalanced his previous
failure, that he could not help communicating his satisfaction to Flint,
and this in such manner, that the fiery little animal, who had been for
some time exceedingly tractable and good-natured, took umbrage at it,
and threatened to dislodge him if he did not desist from his
vagaries--delivering the hint so clearly and unmistakeably that it was
not lost upon his rider, who endeavoured to calm him down. In proportion
as the attorney's spirits rose, those of James Device and his followers
sank, for they felt they were caught in a snare, from which they could
not easily escape.
By this time they had reached the borders of Worston Moor, which had
been hitherto concealed by a piece of rising ground, covered with gorse
and brushwood, and Jem's hut, together with the clough, the rindle, and
the dyke, came distinctly into view. The plans were again produced, and,
on comparing them, it appeared that the various landmarks were precisely
situated as laid down by Mistress Nutter, while their disposition was
entirely at variance with James Device's statement.
Master Potts then rose in his stirrups, and calling for silence,
addressed the assemblage.
"There stands the hut," he said, "and instead of being behind the
clough, it is on one side of it, while the door certainly does _not_
face the moor, neither is the rindle in front of the dwelling or near
it; while the dyke, which is the main and important boundary line
between the properties, runs above two hundred yards further west than
formerly. Now, observe the original position of these marks, meres, and
boundaries--that is, of this hut, this clough, this rindle, and this
dyke--exactly corresponds with the description given of them by the man
Device, who dwells in the place, and who is, therefore, a person most
likely to be accurately acquainted with the country; and yet, though he
has only been absent two days, changes the most surprising have taken
place--changes so surprising, indeed, that he scarcely knows the way to
his own house, and certainly never could find the path which he has
described as leading to Hook Cliff, since it is entirely obliterated.
Observe, further, all these extraordinary and incomprehensible changes
in the appearance of the country, and in the situation of the marks,
meres, and boundaries, are favourable to Mistress Nutter, and give her
the advantage she seeks over my honoured and honourable client. They are
set down in Mistress Nutter's plan, it is true; but when, let me ask,
was that plan prepared? In my opinion it was prepared first, and the
changes in the land made after it by diabolical fraud and contrivance. I
am sorry to have to declare this to you, Master Nicholas, and to you,
Master Richard, but such is my firm conviction."
"And mine, also," added Nowell; "and I here charge Mistress Nutter with
sorcery and witchcraft, and on my return I will immediately issue a
warrant for her arrest. Sparshot, I command you to attach the person of
James Device, for aiding and abetting her in her foul practices."
"I will help you to take charge of him," said the reeve, riding forward.
Probably this was done to give Jem a chance of escape, and if so, it was
successful, for as the reeve pushed among his captors, and thrust
Sparshot aside, the ruffian broke from them; and running with great
swiftness across the moor, plunged into the clough, and disappeared.
Nicholas and Richard instantly gave chase, as did Master Potts, but the
fugitive led them over the treacherous bog in such a manner as to baffle
all pursuit. A second disaster here overtook the unlucky attorney, and
damped him in his hour of triumph. Flint, who had apparently not
forgotten or forgiven the joyous kicks he had recently received from the
attorney's heels, came to a sudden halt by the side of the quagmire,
and, putting down his head, and flinging up his legs, cast him into it.
While Potts was scrambling out, the animal galloped off in the direction
of the clough, and had just reached it when he was seized upon by James
Device, who suddenly started from the covert, and vaulted upon his back.