Isole de Heton.  Ravished by her wondrous beauty, Blackburn soon found an opportunity of making his passion known to her, and his handsome though fierce lineaments pleasing her, he did not long sigh in vain.  He frequently visited her in the garb of a Cistertian monk, and, being taken for one of the brethren, his conduct brought great scandal upon the Abbey.  The abandoned votaress bore him a daughter, and the infant was conveyed away by the lover, and placed under the care of a peasant’s wife, at Barrowford.  From that child sprung Bess Blackburn, the mother of old Demdike; so that the witch is a direct descendant of Isole de Heton.

“Notwithstanding all precautions, Isole’s dark offence became known, and she would have paid the penalty of it at the stake, if she had not fled.  In scaling Whalley Nab, in the woody heights of which she was to remain concealed till her lover could come to her, she fell from a rock, shattering her limbs, and disfiguring her features.  Some say she was lamed for life, and became as hideous as she had heretofore been lovely; but this is erroneous, for apprehensive of such a result, attended by the loss of her lover, she invoked the powers of darkness, and proffered her soul in return for five years of unimpaired beauty.

“The compact was made, and when Blackburn came he found her more beautiful than ever.  Enraptured, he conveyed her to Malkin Tower, and lived with her there in security, laughing to scorn the menaces of Abbot Eccles, by whom he was excommunicated.

“Time went on, and as Isole’s charms underwent no change, her lover’s ardour continued unabated.  Five years passed in guilty pleasures, and the last day of the allotted term arrived.  No change was manifest in Isole’s demeanour; neither remorse nor fear were exhibited by her.  Never had she appeared more lovely, never in higher or more exuberant spirits.  She besought her lover, who was still madly intoxicated by her infernal charms, to give a banquet that night to ten of his trustiest followers.  He willingly assented, and bade them to the feast.  They ate and drank merrily, and the gayest of the company was the lovely Isole.  Her spirits seemed somewhat too wild even to Blackburn, but he did not check her, though surprised at the excessive liveliness and freedom of her sallies.  Her eyes flashed like fire, and there was not a man present but was madly in love with her, and ready to dispute for her smiles with his captain.

“The wine flowed freely, and song and jest went on till midnight.  When the hour struck, Isole filled a cup to the brim, and called upon them to pledge her.  All arose, and drained their goblets enthusiastically.  ’It was a farewell cup,’ she said; ‘I am going away with one of you.’  ‘How!’ exclaimed Blackburn, in angry surprise.  ’Let any one but touch your hand, and I will strike him dead at my feet.’  The rest of the company regarded each other with surprise, and it