“Ay, come away!” shrieked the hag, seizing Alizon’s arm.

“Where are you about to take her?” asked Mistress Nutter.

“To my hut,” replied Mother Chattox.

“No, no—­she shall not go there,” returned the lady.

“And wherefore not?” screamed the hag.  “She is mine now, and I say she shall go.”

“Right, mistress,” said Fancy; “and leave the lady here if she objects to accompany her.  But be quick.”

“You shall not take her from me!” shrieked Mistress Nutter, holding her daughter fast.  “I see through your diabolical purpose.  You have the same dark design as Mother Demdike, and would sacrifice her; but she shall not go with you, neither will I.”

“Tut!” exclaimed the hag, “you have lost your senses on a sudden.  I do not want your daughter.  But come away, or Mother Demdike will surprise us.”

“Do not trifle with her longer,” whispered Fancy to the hag; “drag the girl away, or you will lose her.  A few moments, and it will be too late.”

Mother Chattox made an attempt to obey him, but Mistress Nutter resisted her.

“Curses on her!” she muttered, “she is too strong for me.  Do thou help me,” she added, appealing to Fancy.

“I cannot,” he replied; “I have done all I dare to help you.  You must accomplish the rest yourself.”

“But, my sweet imp, recollect—­”

“I recollect I have a master,” interrupted the familiar.

“And a mistress, too,” cried the hag; “and she will chastise thee if thou art disobedient.  I command thee to carry off this girl.”

“I have already told you I dare not, and I now say I will not,” replied Fancy.

“Will not!” shrieked the hag.  “Thou shalt smart for this.  I will bury thee in the heart of this mountain, and make thee labour within it like a gnome.  I will set thee to count the sands on the river’s bed, and the leaves on the forest trees.  Thou shalt know neither rest nor respite.”

“Ho! ho! ho!” laughed Fancy, mockingly.

“Dost deride me?” cried the hag.  “I will do it, thou saucy jackanapes.  For the last time, wilt obey me?”

“No,” replied Fancy, “and for this reason—­your term is out.  It expired at midnight.”

“It is false!” shrieked the hag, in accents of mixed terror and rage.  “I have months to run, and will renew it.”

“Before midnight, you might have done so; but it is now too late—­your reign is over,” rejoined Fancy.  “Farewell, sweet mistress.  We shall meet once again, though scarcely under such pleasant circumstances as heretofore.”

“It cannot be, my darling Fancy; thou art jesting with me,” whimpered the hag; “thou wouldst not delude thy doating mistress thus.”

“I have done with thee, foul hag,” rejoined the familiar, “and am right glad my service is ended.  I could have saved thee, but would not, and delayed my return for that very purpose.  Thy soul was forfeited when I came back to thy hut.”