“The voice came from the other side of the river,” said Richard—­“and, hark! it calls again.  Who can it be?”

“It is Jennet,” replied Alizon; “I see her now.”

And she pointed out the little girl standing beside an alder on the opposite bank.

“Yo didna notice me efore, Alizon,” cried Jennet in her sharp tone, and with her customary provoking laugh, “boh ey seed yo plain enuff, an heer’d yo too; and ey heer’d Mester Ruchot say he wad hide i’ this thicket, an cross the river to meet ye at sunset.  Little pigs, they say, ha’ lang ears, an mine werena gi’en me fo’ nowt.”

“They have somewhat misinformed you in this instance,” replied Alizon; “but how, in the name of wonder, did you come here?”

“Varry easily,” replied Jennet, “boh ey hanna time to tell ye now.  Granny Demdike has sent me hither wi’ a message to ye and Mistress Nutter.  Boh may be ye winna loike Mester Ruchot to hear what ey ha’ getten to tell ye.”

“I will leave you,” said Richard, about to depart.

“Oh! no, no!” cried Alizon, “she can have nothing to say which you may not hear.”

“Shan ey go back to Granny Demdike, an tell her yo’re too proud to receive her message?” asked the child.

“On no account,” whispered Richard.  “Do not let her anger the old hag.”

“Speak, Jennet,” said Alizon, in a tone of kind persuasion.

“Ey shanna speak onless ye cum ower t’ wetur to me,” replied the little girl; “an whot ey ha to tell consarns ye mitch.”

“I can easily cross,” observed Alizon to Richard.  “Those stones seem placed on purpose.”

Upon this, descending from the terrace to the river’s brink, and springing lightly upon the first stone which reared its head above the foaming tide, she bounded to another, and so in an instant was across the stream.  Richard saw her ascend the opposite bank, and approach Jennet, who withdrew behind the alder; and then he fancied he perceived an old beldame, partly concealed by the intervening branches of the tree, advance and seize hold of her.  Then there was a scream; and the sound had scarcely reached the young man’s ears before he was down the bank and across the river, but when he reached the alder, neither Alizon, nor Jennet, nor the old beldame were to be seen.

The terrible conviction that she had been carried off by Mother Demdike then smote him, and though he continued his search for her among the adjoining bushes, it was with fearful misgivings.  No answer was returned to his shouts, nor could he discover any trace of the means by which Alizon had been spirited away.

After some time spent in ineffectual search, uncertain what course to pursue, and with a heart full of despair, Richard crossed the river, and proceeded towards the house, in front of which he found Mistress Nutter and Nicholas, both of whom seemed surprised when they perceived he was unaccompanied by Alizon.  The lady immediately, and somewhat sharply, questioned him as to what had become of her adopted daughter, and appeared at first to doubt his answer; but at length, unable to question his sincerity, she became violently agitated.