“He shall not know of our compact.”

These words seemed to be whispered in her ear.  She turned aside; but saw nothing save the glow of sunset through the lattice, and a wavering light upon the floor.

“I would spare him this misery,” she sighed.  “Conceal but the secret from him, and I am again thine!”

Suddenly the well-known form of her familiar was at her side.

The following day was All-Hallows-e’en, and her allegiance must be renewed in the great assembly of his subjects held on that fearful night.

It was in the year 1632, a period well known in history as having led to the apprehension of a considerable number of persons accused of witchcraft.  The depositions of these miserable creatures were taken before Richard Shuttleworth and John Starkie, two of his Majesty’s justices of the peace, on the 10th of February 1633; and they were committed to Lancaster Castle for trial.

Seventeen of them were found guilty, on evidence suspicious enough under ordinary circumstances, but not at all to be wondered at, if we consider the feeling and excitement then abroad.  Some of the deluded victims themselves confessed their crime, giving minute and connected statements of their meetings, and the transactions which then took place.  Justices of the peace, judges, and the highest dignitaries of the realm, firmly believed in these reputed sorceries.  Even the great Sir Thomas Brown, author of the book intended as an exposure of “Vulgar Errors,” gave his testimony to the truth and reality of those diabolical delusions.  But we have little need to wonder at the superstition of past ages, when we look at the folly and credulity of our own.

It may, perhaps, be pleasing to learn that the judge who presided at the trial respited the convicts, and reported their case to the king in council.  They were next remitted to Chester, where Bishop Bridgeman, certifying his opinion of the matter, four of the accused—­Margaret Johnson, Frances Dickisson, Mary Spencer, and the wife of one Hargreaves—­were sent to London and examined, first by the king’s physicians, and afterwards by Charles I. in person.  “A stranger scene can scarcely be perceived,” says the historian of Whalley; “and it is not easy to imagine whether the untaught manners, rude dialect, and uncouth appearance of these poor foresters would more astonish the king; or his dignity of person and manners, together with the splendid scene by which they were surrounded, would overwhelm them.”

The story made so much noise that plays were written on the subject, and enacted.  One of them is entitled, “The late Lancashire Witches, a well-received Comedy, lately acted at the Globe on the Bank-side, by the King’s Majesty’s Actors.  Written by Thomas Haywood and Richard Broom. Aut prodesse solent, aut delectare, 1634.”

But our element is tradition, especially as illustrating ancient manners and superstitions; we therefore give the sequel of our tale as tradition hath preserved it.