Breakfast at this period was a much more substantial affair than a modern morning repast, and differed little from dinner or supper, except in respect to quantity.  On the present occasion, there were carbonadoes of fish and fowl, a cold chine, a huge pasty, a capon, neat’s tongues, sausages, botargos, and other matters as provocative of thirst as sufficing to the appetite.  Nicholas set to work bravely.  Broiled trout, steaks, and a huge slice of venison pasty, disappeared quickly before him, and he was not quite so sparing of the ale as seemed consistent with his previously-expressed resolutions of temperance.  In vain Parson Dewhurst filled a goblet with water, and looked significantly at him.  He would not take the hint, and turned a deaf ear to the admonitory cough of Sir Ralph.  He had little help from the others, for Richard ate sparingly, and Master Potts made a very poor figure beside him.  At length, having cleared his plate, emptied his cup, and wiped his lips, the squire arose, and said he must bid adieu to his wife, and should then be ready to attend them.

While he quitted the hall for this purpose, Mistress Nutter entered it.  She looked paler than ever, and her eyes seemed larger, darker, and brighter.  Nicholas shuddered slightly as she approached, and even Potts felt a thrill of apprehension pass through his frame.  He scarcely, indeed, ventured a look at her, for he dreaded her mysterious power, and feared she could fathom the designs he secretly entertained against her.  But she took no notice whatever of him.  Acknowledging Sir Ralph’s salutation, she motioned Richard to follow her to the further end of the room.

“Your sister is very ill, Richard,” she said, as the young man attended her, “feverish, and almost light-headed.  Adam Whitworth has told you, I know, that she was imprudent enough, in company with Alizon, to visit the ruins of the conventual church late last night, and she there sustained some fright, which has produced a great shock upon her system.  When found, she was fainting, and though I have taken every care of her, she still continues much excited, and rambles strangely.  You will be surprised as well as grieved when I tell you, that she charges Alizon with having bewitched her.”

“How, madam!” cried Richard.  “Alizon bewitch her!  It is impossible.”

“You are right, Richard,” replied Mistress Nutter; “the thing is impossible; but the accusation will find easy credence among the superstitious household here, and may be highly prejudicial, if not fatal to poor Alizon.  It is most unlucky she should have gone out in this way, for the circumstance cannot be explained, and in itself serves to throw suspicion upon her.”

“I must see Dorothy before I go,” said Richard; “perhaps I may be able to soothe her.”

“It was for that end I came hither,” replied Mistress Nutter; “but I thought it well you should be prepared.  Now come with me.”

Upon this they left the hall together, and proceeded to the abbot’s chamber, where Dorothy was lodged.  Richard was greatly shocked at the sight of his sister, so utterly changed was she from the blithe being of yesterday—­then so full of health and happiness.  Her cheeks burnt with fever, her eyes were unnaturally bright, and her fair hair hung about her face in disorder.  She kept fast hold of Alizon, who stood beside her.