in a taunting tone. "You'll have your grandmother's thanks for the service you've rendered her, lad-ha! ha!"

"Fot' matter, o' two pins ey'd pitch him in again," growled Jem, eyeing the attorney askance.

"No, no, Jem," observed Nicholas; "things must take their course. What's done is done. But if Master Potts be wise, he'll take himself out of court without delay."

"You'll be glad to get me out of court one of these days, squire," muttered Potts," and so will you too, Master James Device. A day of reckoning will come for both-heavy reckoning. Ugh! ugh!" he added, shivering, "how my teeth chatter!"

"Make what haste you can to the Dragon," cried the good-natured squire; "get your clothes dried, and bid John Lawe brew you a pottle of strong sack, swallow it scalding hot, and you'll never look behind you." "Nor before me either," retorted Potts. "Scalding sack! This bloodthirsty squire has a new design upon my life!"

"Ey'n go wi' ye to t' Dragon, mester," said Baggiley; "lean o' me.' "Thankee, friend," replied Potts, taking his arm. "A word at parting, Master Nicholas. This is not the only discovery of witchcraft I've made. I've another case, somewhat nearer home. Ha! ha!"

With this, he hobbled off in the direction of the alehouse, his steps being traceable along the dusty road like the course of a watering-cart. "Ey'n go efter him," growled Jem.

"No you won't, lad," rejoined Nicholas; " and if you'll take my advice, you'll get out of Whalley as fast as you can. You will be safer on the heath of Pendle than here, when Sir Ralph and Master Roger Nowell come to know what has taken place. And mind this, sirrah-the hounds will be out in the forest to-morrow. D'ye heed?"

Jem growled something in reply, and seizing his little sister's hand, strode off with her towards his mother's dwelling, uttering not a word by the way.

Having seen Nance Redferne conveyed to the cottage as before mentioned, Richard Assheton, regardless of the wet state of his own apparel, now joined his cousin, the squire, and they walked to the abbey together, conversing on what had taken place, while the crowd dispersed, some returning to the bowers in the churchyard, and others to the green, their merriment in nowise damped by the recent occurrences, which they looked upon as part of the day's sport. As some of them passed by, laughing, singing, and dancing, Richard Assheton remarked, “I can scarcely believe these to be the same people I so lately saw in the churchyard. They then seemed totally devoid of humanity."

"Pshaw! they are humane enough," rejoined Nicholas; "but you cannot expect them to show mercy to a witch, any more than to a wolf, or other savage and devouring beast."

"But the means taken to prove her guilt were as absurd as iniquitous," said Richard, "and savour of the barbarous ages. If she had perished,

all concerned in the trial would have been guilty of murder."

"But no judge would condemn them," returned Nicholas; "and they have the highest authority in the realm to uphold them. As to leniency to witches, in a general way, I would show none. Traitors alike to God

and man, and bond slaves of Satan, they are out of the pale of Christian charity."

"No criminal, however great, is out of the pale of Christian charity," replied Richard; "but such scenes as we have just witnessed are a disgrace to humanity, and a mockery of justice. In seeking to discover and punish one offence a greater is committed. Suppose this poor young woman really guilty-what then? Our laws are made for protection, as well as punishment of wrong. She should be arraigned, convicted, and condemned before punishment."

"Our laws admit of torture, Richard," observed Nicholas.

"True," said the young man, with a shudder; "and it is another relic of a ruthless age. But torture is only allowed under the eye of the law, and can be inflicted by none but its sworn servants. But, supposing this poor young woman innocent of the crime imputed to her, which I really believe her to be, how, then, will you excuse the atrocities to which she has been subjected?"

"I do not believe her innocent," rejoined Nicholas; "her relationship to a notorious witch, and her fabrication of clay images, make her justly suspected."

Then let her be examined by a magistrate," said Richard; "but, even then, woe betide her! When I think that Alizon Device is liable to the same atrocious treatment, in consequence of her relationship to Mother Demdike, I can scarce contain my indignation."

"It is unlucky for her, indeed," rejoined Nicholas; "but of all Nance's assailants the most infuriated was Alizon's brother, Jem Device."

"I saw it," cried Richard, an uneasy expression passing over his countenance. "Would she could be removed from that family!"

"To what purpose?" demanded Nicholas, quickly. "Her family are more likely to be removed from her if Master Potts stay in the neighbourhood."

"Poor girl!" exclaimed Richard.

And he fell into a reverie which was not broken till they reached the abbey.

To return to Jem Device. On reaching the cottage, the ruffian flung himself into a chair, and for a time seemed lost in reflection. At last he looked up, and said gruffly to Jennet, who stood watching him,

"See if mother be come whoam?"

"Eigh, eigh, ey'm here, Jem," said Elizabeth Device, opening the inner door and coming forth. "So ye ha been swimmin' Nance Red

ferne, lad, eh? Ey'm glad on it-ha! ha!"

Jem gave her a significant look, upon which she motioned Jennet to withdraw, and the injunction being complied with, though with evident reluctance, by the little girl, she closed the door upon her.

"Now, Jem, what hast got to say to me, lad, eh?" demanded Elizabeth, stepping up to him.

"Neaw great deal, mother," he replied; "boh ey keawnsel ye to look weel efter yersel. We're aw i' dawnger."

"Ey knoas it, lad, ey knoas it," replied Elizabeth; "boh fo' my own pert ey❜m nah afeerd. They darna touch me; an if they dun, ey con defend mysel reet weel. Here's a letter to thy granmother," she added, giving him a sealed packet.

"Tak care on it."

"Fro' Mistress Nutter, ey suppose?" asked Jem.

"Your

"Eigh, who else should it be from?" rejoined Elizabeth. granmother win ha' enough to do to-neet, an so win yo, too, Jem, lettin' alone the walk fro' here to Malkin Tower."

"Weel, gi' me mey supper, an ey'n set out," rejoined Jem. ha' seen Mistress Nutter ?"

"So ye

an we had

"Ey found her i' t' abbey garden," replied Elizabeth, some tawk together abowt boundary line o' t' Rough Lee estates, an other matters."

And, as she spoke, she set a cold pasty, with oat cakes, cheese, and butter, before her son, and next proceeded to draw him a jug of ale. "What other matters dun you mean, mother?" inquired Jem, attacking the pasty. "War it owt relatin' to that little Lunnon lawyer, Mester

Potts ?"

"Theawst hit it, Jem," replied Elizabeth, seating herself near him. "That Potts means to visit thy granmother to-morrow."

"Weel!" said Jem, grimly.

"An arrest her," pursued Elizabeth.

Easily said," laughed Jem, scornfully, "boh neaw quite so easily done."

“Nah quite, Jem," responded Elizabeth, joining in the laugh. "'Specially when t' owd dame's prepared, as she win be now."

"Potts may set out o' that journey, boh he winna come back again," remarked Jem, in a sombre tone.

"Wait till yo'n seen your granmother efore ye do owt, lad," said Elizabeth.

"Ay, wait," added a voice.

"What's that?" demanded Jem, laying down his knife and fork. Elizabeth did not answer in words, but her significant looks were quite response enough for her son.

"Os ye win, mother," he said, in an altered tone. After a pause, employed in eating, he added, " Did Mistress Nutter put onny questions about Alizon?"

to ye

"More nor enough, lad," replied Elizabeth; "fo' what had ey to tell her? She praised her beauty, an said how unlike she wur to Jennet an thee, lad-ha! ha! An wondert how ey cum to ha such a dowter, an monny other things besoide. An what could ey say to it aw, except"Except what, mother?" interrupted Jem.

66

Except that she wur my child just os much os Jennet an thee !" "Humph!" exclaimed Jem.

66

66

Humph!" echoed the voice that had previously spoken.

Jem looked at his mother, and took a long pull at the ale-jug. Any more messages to Malkin Tower ?" he asked, getting up. "Neaw-mother will onderstond," replied Elizabeth.

her guard, fo' the enemy is abroad."

"Meanin' Potts?" said Jem.

"Meaning Potts," answered the voice.

"Bid her be on

"There are strange echoes here," said Jem, looking round suspiciously.

At this moment Tib came from under a piece of furniture, where he had apparently been lying, and rubbed himself familiarly against his legs.

"

Ey needna be afeerd o' owt happenin' to ye, mother," said Jem, patting the cat's back. "Tib win tay care on yo."

"Eigh, eigh," replied Elizabeth, bending down to pat him, "he's a trusty cat." But the ill-tempered animal would not be propitiated, but erected his back and menaced her with his claws. "One word efore ey

"Yo han offended him, mother," said Jem. start. Are ye quite sure Potts didna owerhear your conversation wi' Mistress Nutter ?"

"Why d'ye ask, Jem?" she replied.

"Fro' summat the knave threw out to Squoire Nicholas just now," rejoined Jem. "He said he'd another case o' witchcraft nearer whoam. Whot could he mean?"

"Whot indeed?" cried Elizabeth, quickly.

"Look at Tib!" exclaimed her son.

As he spoke, the cat sprang towards the inner door, and scratched violently against it.

Elizabeth immediately raised the latch and found Jennet behind it, with a face like scarlet.

"Yo'n been listenin', ye young eavesdropper," cried Elizabeth, boxing her ears soundly; "take that for your pains-an that."

"Touch me again, an Mester Potts shan knoa aw ey'n heerd," said the little girl, repressing her tears.

Elizabeth regarded her angrily; but the looks of the child were so spiteful, that she did not dare to strike her. She glanced too at Tib; but the uncertain cat was now rubbing himself in the most friendly manner against Jennet.

"Yo shan pay for this, lass, presently," said Elizabeth.

"Best nah provoke me, mother," rejoined Jennet, in a determined tone; "if ye dun, aw secrets shan out. Ey knoa why Jem's goin' to Malkin Tower to-neet-an why yo're afeerd o' Mester Potts."

"Howd thy tongue or ey'n choke thee, little pest," cried her mother, fiercely.

Jennet replied with a mocking laugh, while Tib rubbed against her more fondly than ever.

"Let her alone," interposed Jem. "An now ey mun be off. So, fare ye weel, mother-an yo, too, Jennet.' And with this he put on

his cap, seized his cudgel, and quitted the cottage.

102

AN ADVENTURE AT A VILLAGE INN.

BEING THE SEVENTH CHAPTER OF "INCIDENTS OF THE ROAD; OR, PASSAGES FROM THE LIFE OF A COMMERCIAL TRAVELLER.'

BY JOSEPH ANTHONY, JUN.

SINCE the first appearance of the "Incidents of the Road," from several of our brotherhood I have received communications, accompanied by narrations of events which they respectively have encountered during their experiences, and which, with much reason, they consider equally worthy of being chronicled as my own. In selecting two of these narratives to present to the reader, I have been guided not so much by the novelty they possess, as by the reliance which, from a personal knowledge, I place on those from whom I have received them. Apart from this, however, in my opinion they both bear internal evidence of their truthfulness. The first, which is aptly entitled "An Adventure at a Village Inn," is given as by me received, with the exception of a few slight alterations not affecting the events described in the story.

Accompanied by a friend, in the autumn of 1844 I visited the ducal village of E-r, in the north of England, to enjoy a few days' grouseshooting on its neighbouring hills. Our head-quarters were at the principal, or, rather, the only inn in the village, which, contrary to the general character of country inns, possesses some pretensions to styleeven splendour. The building was erected expressly for the accommodation of the numerous visitors who, from all parts of the world, avail themselves of the privilege afforded of seeing, as well as the unequalled grounds the interior of the most splendid and world-wide renowned residence of one of the wealthiest of England's nobility. During the summer months the inn is generally crowded, but on our arrival, rather late in the autumn, the last of the migratories had departed, and we found ourselves the only guests of Jeffries, the very worthy host.

During our sojourn in the place, it was the privilege of myself and my friend to have the entrée of our host's sanctorum, where, with him and his amiable better half, and one or two of their private friends, including, amongst others, their neighbour, the duke's steward, we had enjoyed, in the evenings, many agreeable conversations, and as many pleasant quiet rubbers. On one of our visits to this snuggery, following the enjoyment of an excellent dinner, accompanied with that true and unpurchasable sauce which we had won on the hills, we learned from our hostess that her liege lord and husband had retired for the night, dead beat. He had been out with us during the day, and this retreat served to confirm the opinion he had himself more than once expressed whilst with us brushing the heather, that he was hardly in condition for the work. But although our host had been placed hors de combat, there sat our friend his grace's steward, not only a very intelligent and pleasant companion, but somewhat celebrated for his breed of short-horns and his knowledge in general of the animal world. Right glad were we to see him with his cheerful countenance hailing our coming, and, after a brief chat on the successful sport of the day, we sat down to our accustomed rubber. In cutting for partners, fortune awarded the lady to me, my friend and the steward