“Because she would have done you a mischief,” rejoined Mistress Nutter.  “But now let me put a question to you.  Are you willing to renounce your baptism, and enter into a covenant with the Prince of Darkness?”

Dorothy did not seem in the least to comprehend what was said to her; but she nevertheless replied, “I am.”

“Bring water and salt,” said Mistress Nutter to Mother Chattox.  “By these drops I baptise you,” she added, dipping her fingers in the liquid, and preparing to sprinkle it over the brow of the proselyte.

Then it was that Alizon, by an almost superhuman effort, burst the spell that bound her, and clasped Dorothy in her arms.

“You know not what you do, dear Dorothy,” she cried.  “I answer for you.  You will not yield to the snares and temptations of Satan, however subtly devised.  You defy him and all his works.  You will make no covenant with him.  Though surrounded by his bond-slaves, you fear him not.  Is it not so?  Speak!”

But Dorothy could only answer with an insane laugh—­“I will be a witch.”

“It is too late,” interposed Mistress Nutter.  “You cannot save her.  And, remember! she stands in your place.  Or you or she must be devoted.”

“I will never desert her,” cried Alizon, twining her arms round her.  “Dorothy—­dear Dorothy—­address yourself to Heaven.”

An angry growl of thunder was heard.

“Beware!” cried Mistress Nutter.

“I am not to be discouraged,” rejoined Alizon, firmly.  “You cannot gain a victory over a soul in this condition, and I shall effect her deliverance.  Heaven will aid us, Dorothy.”

A louder roll of thunder was heard, followed by a forked flash of lightning.

“Provoke not the vengeance of the Prince of Darkness,” said Mistress Nutter.

“I have no fear,” replied Alizon.  “Cling to me, Dorothy.  No harm shall befall you.”

“Be speedy!” cried the voice.

“Let her go,” cried Mistress Nutter to Alizon, “or you will rue this disobedience.  Why should you interfere with my projects, and bring ruin on yourself!  I would save you.  What, still obstinate?  Nay, then, I will no longer show forbearance.  Help me, sisters.  Force the new witch from her.  But beware how you harm my child.”

At these words the troop gathered round the two girls.  But Alizon only clasped her hands more tightly round Dorothy; while the latter, on whose brain the maddening potion still worked, laughed frantically at them.  It was at this moment that Elizabeth Device, who had conceived a project of revenge, put it into execution.  While near Dorothy, she stamped, spat on the ground, and then cast a little mould over her, breathing in her ear, “Thou art bewitched—­bewitched by Alizon Device.”

Dorothy instantly struggled to free herself from Alizon.

“Oh! do not you strive against me, dear Dorothy,” cried Alizon.  “Remain with me, or you are lost.”