As the words were uttered, a clang like that produced by a stricken gong shook the vault; the beasts roared fiercely; the black waters of the fountain bubbled up, and were lashed into foam by the angry reptiles; and a larger jet of flame than before burst from the brow of the demon statue.

“Ey ha’ warned ye, Alizon,” said Jennet, alarmed by these demonstrations; “boh since ye pay no heed to owt ey say, ey’st leave yo to yer fate.”

“Oh! stay with me, stay with me, Jennet!” shrieked Alizon, “By our past sisterly affection I implore you to remain!  You are some protection to me from these dreadful beings.”

“Ey dunna want to protect yo onless yo do os yo’re bidd’n,” replied Jennet!  “Whoy should yo be better than me?”

“Ah! why, indeed?” cried Alizon.  “Would I had the power to turn your heart—­to open your eyes to evil—­to save you, Jennet.”

These words were followed by another clang, louder and more brattling than the first.  The solid walls of the dungeon were shaken, and the heavy columns rocked; while, to Alizon’s affrighted gaze, it seemed as if the sable statue arose upon its ebon throne, and stretched out its arm menacingly towards her.  The poor girl was saved from further terror by insensibility.

How long she remained in this condition she could not tell, nor did it appear that any efforts were made to restore her; but when she recovered, she found herself stretched upon a rude pallet within an arched recess, the entrance to which was screened by a piece of tapestry.  On lifting it aside she perceived she was no longer in the vault, but in an upper chamber, as she judged, and not incorrectly, of the tower.  The room was lofty and circular, and the walls of enormous thickness, as shown by the deep embrasures of the windows; in one of which, the outlet having been built up, the pallet was placed.  A massive oak table, two or three chairs of antique shape, and a wooden stool, constituted the furniture of the room.  The stool was set near the fireplace, and beside it stood a strangely-fashioned spinning-wheel, which had apparently been recently used; but neither the old hag nor her grand-daughter were visible.  Alizon could not tell whether it was night or day; but a lamp was burning upon the table, its feeble light only imperfectly illumining the chamber, and scarcely revealing several strange objects dangling from the huge beams that supported the roof.  Faded arras were hung against the walls, representing in one compartment the last banquet of Isole de Heton and her lover, Blackburn; in another, the Saxon Ughtred hanging from the summit of Malkin Tower; and in a third, the execution of Abbot Paslew.  The subjects were as large as life, admirably depicted, and evidently worked at wondrous looms.  As they swayed to and fro in the gusts, that found entrance into the chamber through some unprotected loopholes, the figures had a grim and ghostly air.

Weak, trembling, bewildered, Alizon stepped forth, and staggering towards the table sank upon a chair beside it.  A fearful storm was raging without—­thunder, lightning, deluging rain.  Stunned and blinded, she covered her eyes, and remained thus till the fury of the tempest had in some degree abated.  She was roused at length by a creaking sound not far from her, and found it proceeded from a trapdoor rising slowly on its hinges.