“Ah, Richard!” she cried on seeing him, “I am glad you are come.  You will persuade this girl to restore me to reason—­to free me from the terrors that beset me.  She can do so if she will.”

“Calm yourself, dear sister,” said Richard, gently endeavouring to free Alizon from her grasp.

“No, do not take her from me,” said Dorothy, wildly; “I am better when she is near me—­much better.  My brow does not throb so violently, and my limbs are not twisted so painfully.  Do you know what ails me, Richard?”

“You have caught cold from wandering out indiscreetly last night,” said Richard.

“I am bewitched!” rejoined Dorothy, in tones that pierced her brother’s brain—­“bewitched by Alizon Device—­by your love—­ha! ha!  She wishes to kill me, Richard, because she thinks I am in her way.  But you will not let her do it.”

“You are mistaken, dear Dorothy.  She means you no harm,” said Richard.

“Heaven knows how much I grieve for her, and how fondly I love her!” exclaimed Alizon, tearfully.

“It is false!” cried Dorothy.  “She will tell a different tale when you are gone.  She is a witch, and you shall never marry her, Richard—­never!—­never!”

Mistress Nutter, who stood at a little distance, anxiously observing what was passing, waved her hand several times towards the sufferer, but without effect.

“I have no influence over her,” she muttered.  “She is really bewitched.  I must find other means to quieten her.”

Though both greatly distressed, Alizon and Richard redoubled their attentions to the poor sufferer.  For a few moments she remained quiet, but with her eyes constantly fixed on Alizon, and then said, quickly and fiercely, “I have been told, if you scratch one who has bewitched you till you draw blood, you will be cured.  I will plunge my nails in her flesh.”

“I will not oppose you,” replied Alizon, gently; “tear my flesh if you will.  You should have my life’s blood if it would cure you; but if the success of the experiment depends on my having bewitched you, it will assuredly fail.”

“This is dreadful,” interposed Richard.  “Leave her, Alizon, I entreat of you.  She will do you an injury.”

“I care not,” replied the young maid.  “I will stay by her till she voluntarily releases me.”

The almost tigress fury with which Dorothy had seized upon the unresisting girl here suddenly deserted her, and, sobbing hysterically, she fell upon her neck.  Oh, with what delight Alizon pressed her to her bosom!

“Dorothy, dear Dorothy!” she cried.

“Alizon, dear Alizon!” responded Dorothy.  “Oh! how could I suspect you of any ill design against me!”

“She is no witch, dear sister, be assured of that!” said Richard.

“Oh, no—­no—­no!  I am quite sure she is not,” cried Dorothy, kissing her affectionately.

This change had been wrought by the low-breathed spells of Mistress Nutter.