While elbowing his way through the crowd, Nicholas felt his sleeve plucked, and turning, perceived Nance Redferne, who signed him to follow her, and there was something in her manner that left him no alternative but compliance.  Nance passed on rapidly, and entered the doorway of a building, where it might be supposed they would be free from interruption.

“What do you want with me, Nance?” asked the squire, somewhat impatiently.  “I must beg to observe that I cannot be troubled further on your account, and am greatly afraid aspersions may be thrown on my character, if I am seen talking with you.”

“A few words wi’ me winna injure your character, squire,” rejoined Nance, “an it’s on your account an naw on my own that ey ha’ brought you here.  Ey ha’ important information to gie ye.  What win yo say when ey tell yo that Jem Device, Elizabeth Device, an’ her dowter Jennet are here—­aw breedin mischief agen yo, Ruchot Assheton, and Alizon?”

“The devil!” ejaculated Nicholas.

“Eigh, yo’n find it the devil, ey con promise ye, onless their plans be frustrated,” said Nance.

“That can be easily done,” replied Nicholas.  “I’ll cause them to be arrested at once.”

“Nah, nah—­that canna be,” rejoined Nance—­“Yo mun bide your time.”

“What! and allow such miscreants to go at large, and work any malice they please against me and my friends!” replied Nicholas.  “Show me where they are, Nance, or I must make you a prisoner.”

“Nah! yo winna do that, squire,” she replied in a tone of good-humoured defiance.  “Ye winna do it for two good reasons:  first, becose yo’d be harming a freend who wants to sarve yo, and win do so, if yo’n let her; and secondly, becose if yo wur to raise a finger agen me, ey’d deprive yo of speech an motion.  When the reet moment comes yo shan strike—­boh it’s nah come yet.  The fruit is nah ripe eneugh to gather.  Ey am os anxious os you con be, that the whole o’ the Demdike brood should be swept away—­an it shan be, if yo’n leave it to me.”

“Well, I commit the matter entirely to you,” said Nicholas.  “Apparently, it cannot be in better hands.  But are you aware that Christopher Demdike is a prisoner here in Hoghton Tower?  He was taken this morning in the park.”

“Ey knoa it,” replied Nance; “an ey knoa also why he went there, an it wur my intention to ha’ revealed his black design to yo.  However, it has bin ordert differently.  Boh in respect to t’others, wait till I gie yo the signal.  They are disguised; boh even if ye see ’em, an recognise ’em, dunna let it appear till ey gie the word, or yo’n spoil aw.”

“Your injunctions shall be obeyed implicitly, Nance,” rejoined, Nicholas.  “I have now perfect reliance upon you.  But when shall I see you again?”

“That depends upon circumstances,” she replied.  “To-neet, may be—­may be to-morrow neet.  My plans maun be guided by those of others.  Boh when next yo see me you win ha’ to act.”