“Howd!” cried the man; “Ey win no longer deny my name.  Ey am Jem Device, an this is my mother, Elizabeth.  Boh a warse offender than either on us stonds afore yo.  This woman is Nance Redferne, grandowter of the owd hag, Mother Chattox.  Ey charge her wi’ makin’ wax images, an’ stickin’ pins in ’em, wi’ intent to kill folk.  Hoo wad ha’ kilt me mysel’, wi’ her devilry, if ey hadna bin too strong for her—­an’ that’s why hoo bears me malice, an’ has betrayed me to Squoire Nicholas Assheton.  Seize her, an’ ca’ me as a witness agen her.”

And as Nance was secured, he laughed malignantly.

“Ey care not,” replied Nance.  “Ey am now revenged on you both.”

While this impromptu performance took place, as much to the surprise of James as of any one else, and while he was desiring Sir Richard Hoghton to ascertain what it all meant—­at the very moment that the two Devices and Nance removed from the stage, an usher approached the monarch, and said that Master Potts entreated a moment’s audience of his majesty.

“Potts!” exclaimed James, somewhat confused.  “Wha is he?—­ah, yes!  I recollect—­a witch-finder.  Weel, let him approach.”

Accordingly, the next moment the little attorney, whose face was evidently charged with some tremendous intelligence, was ushered into the king’s presence.

After a profound reverence, he said, “May it please your Majesty, I have something for your private ear.”

“Aweel, then,” replied James, “approach us mair closely.  What hae ye got to say, sir?  Aught mair anent these witches?”

“A great deal, sire,” said Potts, in an impressive tone.  “Something dreadful has happened—­something terrible.”

“Eh! what?” exclaimed James, looking alarmed.  “What is it, man?  Speak!”

“Murder? sire,—­murder has been done,” said Potts, in low thrilling accents.

“Murder!” exclaimed James, horror-stricken.  “Tell us a’ about it, and without more ado.”

But Potts was still circumspect.  With an air of deepest mystery, he approached his head as near as he dared to that of the monarch, and whispered in his ear.

“Can this be true?” cried James.  “If sae—­it’s very shocking—­very sad.”

“It is too true, as your Majesty will find on investigation,” replied Potts.  “The little girl I told you of, Jennet Device, saw it done.”

“Weel, weel, there is nae accounting for human frailty and wickedness,” said James.  “Let a’ necessary steps be taken at once.  We will consider what to do.  But—­d’ye hear, sir?—­dinna let the bairn Jennet go.  Haud her fast.  D’ye mind that?  Now go, and cause the guilty party to be put under arrest.”

And on receiving this command Master Potts departed.

Scarcely was he gone than Nicholas Assheton came up to the railing of the platform, and, imploring his Majesty’s forgiveness for the disturbance he had occasioned, explained that it had been owing to the seizure of the two Devices, who, for some wicked but unexplained purpose, had contrived to introduce themselves, under various disguises, into the Tower.