“Ay, marry, do I,” rejoined Mother Demdike, with a scream of laughter, “Thou art nothing more than a puppet—­a puppet—­ho! ho.”

“And you deem you can dispose of my soul without my consent?” said Alizon.

“Thy full consent will be obtained,” rejoined the old hag.

“Think it not! think it not!” exclaimed Alizon.  “Oh!  I shall yet be delivered from this infernal bondage.”

At this moment the notes of a bugle were heard.

“Saved! saved!” cried the poor girl, starting.  “It is Richard come to my rescue!”

“How know’st thou that?” cried Mother Demdike, with a spiteful look.

“By an instinct that never deceives,” replied Alizon, as the blast was again heard.

“This must be stopped,” said the hag, waving her staff over the maiden, and transfixing her where she sat; after which she took up the lamp, and strode towards the window.

The few words that passed between her and Richard have been already recounted.  Having closed the casement and drawn the curtain before it, Mother Demdike traced a circle on the floor, muttered a spell, and then, waving her staff over Alizon, restored her power of speech and motion.

“’Twas he!” exclaimed the young girl, as soon as she could find utterance.  “I heard his voice.”

“Why, ay, ’twas he, sure enough,” rejoined the beldame.  “He has come on a fool’s errand, but he shall never return from it.  Does Mistress Nutter think I will give up my prize the moment I have obtained it, for the mere asking?  Does she imagine she can frighten me as she frightens others?  Does she know whom she has to deal with?  If not, I will tell her.  I am the oldest, the boldest, and the strongest of the witches.  No mystery of the black art but is known to me.  I can do what mischief I will, and my desolating hand has been felt throughout this district.  You may trace it like a pestilence.  No one has offended me but I have terribly repaid him.  I rule over the land like a queen.  I exact tributes, and, if they are not rendered, I smite with a sharper edge than the sword.  My worship is paid to the Prince of Darkness.  This tower is his temple, and yon subterranean chamber the place where the mystical rites, which thou wouldst call impious and damnable, are performed.  Countless sabbaths have I attended within it; or upon Rumbles Moor, or on the summit of Pendle Hill, or within the ruins of Whalley Abbey.  Many proselytes have I made; many unbaptised babes offered up in sacrifice.  I am high-priestess to the Demon, and thy mother would usurp mine office.”

“Oh! spare me this horrible recital!” exclaimed Alizon, vainly trying to shut out the hag’s piercing voice.

“I will spare thee nothing,” pursued Mother Demdike.  “Thy mother, I say, would be high-priestess in my stead.  There are degrees among witches, as among other sects, and mine is the first.  Mistress Nutter would deprive me of mine office; but not till her hair is as white as mine, her knowledge equal to mine, and her hatred of mankind as intense as mine—­not till then shall she have it.”