“Who is it speaks to me?” demanded the old hag, halting, and fixing her glazed eyes upon him.

“One thou hast much injured,” replied Nicholas.  “One into whose house thou hast brought quick-wasting sickness and death by thy infernal arts.  One thou hast good reason to fear; for learn, to thy confusion, thou damned and murtherous witch, it is Nicholas, brother to thy victim, Richard Assheton of Downham, who speaks to thee.”

“I know none I have reason to fear,” replied Mother Chattox; “especially thee, Nicholas Assheton.  Thy brother was no victim of mine.  Thou wert the gainer by his death, not I. Why should I slay him?”

“I will tell thee why, old hag,” cried Nicholas; “he was inflamed by the beauty of thy grand-daughter Nancy here, and it was to please Tom Redferne, her sweetheart then, but her spouse since, that thou bewitchedst him to death.”

“That reason will not avail thee, Nicholas,” rejoined Mother Chattox, with a derisive laugh.  “If I had any hand in his death, it was to serve and pleasure thee, and that all men shall know, if I am questioned on the subject—­ha! ha!  Take me to the crosses, Nance.”

“Thou shalt not ’scape thus, thou murtherous hag,” cried Nicholas, furiously.

“Nay, let her go her way,” said Richard, who had drawn near during the colloquy.  “No good will come of meddling with her.”

“Who’s that?” asked Mother Chattox, quickly.

[Illustration:  NAN REDFERNE AND MOTHER CHATTOX.]

“Master Richard Assheton, o’ Middleton,” whispered Nan Redferne.

“Another of these accursed Asshetons,” cried Mother Chattox.  “A plague seize them!”

“Boh he’s weel-favourt an kindly,” remarked her grand-daughter.

“Well-favoured or not, kindly or cruel, I hate them all,” cried Mother Chattox.  “To the crosses, I say!”

But Nicholas placed himself in their path.

“Is it to pray to Beelzebub, thy master, that thou wouldst go to the crosses?” he asked.

“Out of my way, pestilent fool!” cried the hag.

“Thou shalt not stir till I have had an answer,” rejoined Nicholas.  “They say those are Runic obelisks, and not Christian crosses, and that the carvings upon them have a magical signification.  The first, it is averred, is written o’er with deadly curses, and the forms in which they are traced, as serpentine, triangular, or round, indicate and rule their swift or slow effect.  The second bears charms against diseases, storms, and lightning.  And on the third is inscribed a verse which will render him who can read it rightly, invisible to mortal view.  Thou shouldst be learned in such lore, old Pythoness.  Is it so?”

The hag’s chin wagged fearfully, and her frame trembled with passion, but she spoke not.

“Have you been in the church, old woman?” interposed Richard.

“Ay, wherefore?” she rejoined.

“Some one has placed a cypress wreath on Abbot Paslew’s grave.  Was it you?” he asked.