“But with the disappearance of the malignant old hags who had so long infested the neighbourhood, had all mischief and calamity ceased, or were people as much afflicted as heretofore?  Were there, in short, so many cases of witchcraft, real or supposed?” This was the question next addressed by Sherborne to Nicholas.  The squire answered decidedly there were not.  Since the burning of the two old beldames, and the imprisonment of the others, the whole district of Pendle had improved.  All those who had been smitten with strange illnesses had recovered; and the inhabitants of the little village of Sabden, who had experienced the fullest effects of their malignity, were entirely free from sickness.  And not only had they and their families suddenly regained health and strength, but all belonging to them had undergone a similar beneficial change.  The kine that had lost their milk now yielded it abundantly; the lame horse halted no longer; the murrain ceased among the sheep; the pigs that had grown lean amidst abundance fattened rapidly; and though the farrows that had perished during the evil ascendency of the witches could not be brought back again, their place promised speedily to be supplied by others.  The corn blighted early in the year had sprung forth anew, and the trees nipped in the bud were laden with fruit.  In short, all was as fair and as flourishing as it had recently been the reverse.  Amongst others, John Law, the pedlar, who had been deprived of the use of his limbs by the damnable arts of Mother Demdike, had marvellously recovered on the very night of her destruction, and was now as strong and as active as ever.  “Such happy results having followed the removal of the witches, it was to be hoped,” Sherborne said, “that the riddance would be complete, and that none of the obnoxious brood would be left to inflict future miseries on their fellows.  This could not be the case so long as James Device was allowed to go at large; nor while his mother, Elizabeth Device, a notorious witch, was suffered to escape with impunity.  There was also Jennet, Elizabeth’s daughter, a mischievous and ill-favoured little creature, who inherited all the ill qualities of her parents.  These were the spawn of the old snake, and, until they were entirely exterminated, there could be no security against a recurrence of the evil.  Again, there was Nance Redferne, old Chattox’s grand-daughter, a comely woman enough, but a reputed witch, and an undoubted fabricator of clay images.  She was still at liberty, though she ought to be with the rest in the dungeons of Lancaster Castle.  It was useless to allege that with the destruction of the old hags all danger had ceased.  Common prudence would keep the others quiet now; but the moment the storm passed over, they would resume their atrocious practices, and all would be as bad as ever.  No, no! the tree must be utterly uprooted, or it would inevitably burst forth anew.”