“Fo’ t’ matter o’ two pins ey’d pitch him again,” growled Jem, eyeing the attorney askance.

“No, no, Jem,” observed Nicholas, “things must take their course.  What’s done is done.  But if Master Potts be wise, he’ll take himself out of court without delay.”

“You’ll be glad to get me out of court one of these days, squire,” muttered Potts, “and so will you too, Master James Device.—­A day of reckoning will come for both—­heavy reckoning.  Ugh! ugh!” he added, shivering, “how my teeth chatter!”

“Make what haste you can to the Dragon,” cried the good-natured squire; “get your clothes dried, and bid John Lawe brew you a pottle of strong sack, swallow it scalding hot, and you’ll never look behind you.”

“Nor before me either,” retorted Potts, “Scalding sack!  This bloodthirsty squire has a new design upon my life!”

“Ey’n go wi’ ye to th’ Dragon, mester,” said Baggiley; “lean o’ me.”

“Thanke’e friend,” replied Potts, taking his arm.  “A word at parting, Master Nicholas.  This is not the only discovery of witchcraft I’ve made.  I’ve another case, somewhat nearer home.  Ha! ha!”

With this, he hobbled off in the direction of the alehouse, his steps being traceable along the dusty road like the course of a watering-cart.

“Ey’n go efter him,” growled Jem.

“No you won’t, lad,” rejoined Nicholas, “and if you’ll take my advice, you’ll get out of Whalley as fast as you can.  You will be safer on the heath of Pendle than here, when Sir Ralph and Master Roger Nowell come to know what has taken place.  And mind this, sirrah—­the hounds will be out in the forest to-morrow.  D’ye heed?”

Jem growled something in reply, and, seizing his little sister’s hand, strode off with her towards his mother’s dwelling, uttering not a word by the way.

Having seen Nance Redferne conveyed to the cottage, as before mentioned, Richard Assheton, regardless of the wet state of his own apparel, now joined his cousin, the squire, and they walked to the Abbey together, conversing on what had taken place, while the crowd dispersed, some returning to the bowers in the churchyard, and others to the green, their merriment in nowise damped by the recent occurrences, which they looked upon as part of the day’s sport.  As some of them passed by, laughing, singing, and dancing, Richard Assheton remarked, “I can scarcely believe these to be the same people I so lately saw in the churchyard.  They then seemed totally devoid of humanity.”

“Pshaw! they are humane enough,” rejoined Nicholas; “but you cannot expect them to show mercy to a witch, any more than to a wolf, or other savage and devouring beast.”

“But the means taken to prove her guilt were as absurd as iniquitous,” said Richard, “and savour of the barbarous ages.  If she had perished, all concerned in the trial would have been guilty of murder.”

“But no judge would condemn them,” returned Nicholas; “and they have the highest authority in the realm to uphold them.  As to leniency to witches, in a general way, I would show none.  Traitors alike to God and man, and bond slaves of Satan, they are out of the pale of Christian charity.”