While thus pondering, the little girl felt an unaccountable drowsiness steal over her, and presently afterwards dropped asleep, when she had a very strange dream.  It seemed to her that there was a contest going on between two spirits, a good one and a bad,—­the bad one being represented by the great black cat, and the good spirit by the white dove.  What they were striving about she could not exactly tell, but she felt that the conflict had some relation to herself.  The dove at first appeared to have but a poor chance against the claws of its sable adversary, but the sharp talons of the latter made no impression upon the white plumage of the bird, which now shone like silver armour, and in the end the cat fled, yelling as it darted off—­“Thou art victorious now, but her soul shall yet be mine.”

Something awakened the little sleeper at the same moment, and she felt very much terrified at her dream, as she could not help thinking her own soul might be the one in jeopardy, and her first impulse was to see whether the white dove was safe.  Yes, there it was still nestling in her bosom, with its head under its wing.

Just then she was startled at hearing her own name pronounced by a hoarse voice, and, looking up, she beheld a tall young man standing at the window.  He had a somewhat gipsy look, having a dark olive complexion, and fine black eyes, though set strangely in his head, like those of Jennet and her mother, coal black hair, and very prominent features, of a sullen and almost savage cast.  His figure was gaunt but very muscular, his arms being extremely long and his hands unusually large and bony—­personal advantages which made him a formidable antagonist in any rustic encounter, and in such he was frequently engaged, being of a very irascible temper, and turbulent disposition.  He was clad in a holiday suit of dark-green serge, which fitted him well, and carried a nosegay in one hand, and a stout blackthorn cudgel in the other.  This young man was James Device, son of Elizabeth, and some four or five years older than Alizon.  He did not live with his mother in Whalley, but in Pendle Forest, near his old relative, Mother Demdike, and had come over that morning to attend the wake.

“Whot are ye abowt, Jennet?” inquired James Device, in tones naturally hoarse and deep, and which he took as little pains to soften, as he did to polish his manners, which were more than ordinarily rude and churlish.

“Whot are ye abowt, ey sey, wench?” he repeated, “Why dunna ye go to t’ green to see the morris-dancers foot it round t’ May-pow?  Cum along wi’ me.”

“Ey dunna want to go, Jem,” replied the little girl.

“Boh yo shan go, ey tell ey,” rejoined her brother; “ye shan see your sister dawnce.  Ye con sit a whoam onny day; boh May-day cums ony wonst a year, an Alizon winna be Queen twice i’ her life.  Soh cum along wi’ me, dereckly, or ey’n may ye.”

“Ey should like to see Alizon dance, an so ey win go wi’ ye, Jem,” replied Jennet, getting up, “otherwise your orders shouldna may me stir, ey con tell ye.”