The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth

by William Harrison Ainsworth

  “Soh, you are better, Alizon, and have quitted your couch, I find,” she cried, striking her staff upon the floor. “But you look faint and feeble still. I will give you something to revive you. I have a wondrous cordial in yon closet — a rare restorative — ha! ha! It will make you well the moment it has passed your lips. I will fetch it at once.”

  “I will have none of it,” replied Alizon; “I would rather die.”

  “Rather die!” echoed Mother Demdike, sarcastically, “because, forsooth, you are crossed in love. But you shall have the man of your heart yet, if you will only follow my counsel, and do as I bid you. Richard Assheton shall be yours, and with your mother’s consent, provided—”

  “I understand the condition you annex to the promise,” interrupted Alizon, “and the terms upon which you would fulfil it: but you seek in vain to tempt me, old woman. I now comprehend why I am brought hither.”

  “Ay, indeed!” exclaimed the old witch. “And why is it, then, since you are so quick-witted?”

  “You desire to make an offering to the evil being you serve,” cried Alizon, with sudden energy. “You have entered into some dark compact, which compels you to deliver up a victim in each year to the Fiend, or your own soul becomes forfeit. Thus you have hitherto lengthened out your wretched life, and you hope to extend the term yet farther through me. I have heard this tale before, but I would not believe it. Now I do. This is why you have stolen me from my mother — have braved her anger — and brought me to this impious tower.”

  The old hag laughed hoarsely.

  “The tale thou hast heard respecting me is true,” she said. “I have a compact which requires me to make a proselyte to the power I serve within each year, and if I fail in doing so, I must pay the penalty thou hast mentioned. A like compact exists between Mistress Nutter and the Fiend.”

  She paused for a moment, to watch the effect of her words on Alizon, and then resumed.

  “Thy mother would have sacrificed thee if thou hadst been left with her; but I have carried thee off, because I conceive I am best entitled to thee. Thou wert brought up as my grand-daughter, and therefore I claim thee as my own.”

  “And you think to deal with me as if I were a puppet in your hands?” cried Alizon.

  “Ay, marry, do I,” rejoined Mother Demdike, with a scream of laughter, “Thou art nothing more than a puppet — a puppet — ho! ho.”

  “And you deem you can dispose of my soul without my consent?” said Alizon.

  “Thy full consent will be obtained,” rejoined the old hag.

  “Think it not! think it not!” exclaimed Alizon. “Oh! I shall yet be delivered from this infernal bondage.”

  At this moment the notes of a bugle were heard.

  “Saved! saved!” cried the poor girl, starting. “It is Richard come to my rescue!”

  “How know’st thou that?” cried Mother Demdike, with a spiteful look.

  “By an instinct that never deceives,” replied Alizon, as the blast was again heard.

  “This must be stopped,” said the hag, waving her staff over the maiden, and transfixing her where she sat; after which she took up the lamp, and strode towards the window.

  The few words that passed between her and Richard have been already recounted. Having closed the casement and drawn the curtain before it, Mother Demdike traced a circle on the floor, muttered a spell, and then, waving her staff over Alizon, restored her power of speech and motion.

  “’Twas he!” exclaimed the young girl, as soon as she could find utterance. “I heard his voice.”

  “Why, ay, ’twas he, sure enough,” rejoined the beldame. “He has come on a fool’s errand, but he shall never return from it. Does Mistress Nutter think I will give up my prize the moment I have obtained it, for the mere asking? Does she imagine she can frighten me as she frightens others? Does she know whom she has to deal with? If not, I will tell her. I am the oldest, the boldest, and the strongest of the witches. No mystery of the black art but is known to me. I can do what mischief I will, and my desolating hand has been felt throughout this district. You may trace it like a pestilence. No one has offended me but I have terribly repaid him. I rule over the land like a queen. I exact tributes, and, if they are not rendered, I smite with a sharper edge than the sword. My worship is paid to the Prince of Darkness. This tower is his temple, and yon subterranean chamber the place where the mystical rites, which thou wouldst call impious and damnable, are performed. Countless sabbaths have I attended within it; or upon Rumbles Moor, or on the summit of Pendle Hill, or within the ruins of Whalley Abbey. Many proselytes have I made; many unbaptised babes offered up in sacrifice. I am high-priestess to the Demon, and thy mother would usurp mine office.”

  “Oh! spare me this horrible recital!” exclaimed Alizon, vainly trying to shut out the hag’s piercing voice.

  “I will spare thee nothing,” pursued Mother Demdike. “Thy mother, I say, would be high-priestess in my stead. There are degrees among witches, as among other sects, and mine is the first. Mistress Nutter would deprive me of mine office; but not till her hair is as white as mine, her knowledge equal to mine, and her hatred of mankind as intense as mine — not till then shall she have it.”

  “No more of this, in pity!” cried Alizon.

  “Often have I aided thy mother in her dark schemes,” pursued the implacable hag; “nay, no later than last night I obliterated the old boundaries of her land, and erected new marks to serve her. It was a strong exercise of power; but the command came to me, and I obeyed it. No other witch could have achieved so much, not even the accursed Chattox, and she is next to myself. And how does thy mother purpose to requite me? By thrusting me aside, and stepping into my throne.”

  “You must be in error,” cried Alizon, scarcely knowing what to say.

  “My information never fails me,” replied the hag, with a disdainful laugh. “Her plans are made known to me as soon as formed. I have those about her who keep strict watch upon her actions, and report them faithfully. I know why she brought thee so suddenly to Rough Lee, though thou know’st it not.”

  “She brought me there for safety,” remarked the young girl, hoping to allay the beldame’s fury, “and because she herself desired to know how the survey of the boundaries would end.”

  “She brought thee there to sacrifice thee to the Fiend!” cried the hag, infernal rage and malice blazing in her eyes. “She failed in propitiating him at the meeting in the ruined church of Whalley last night, when thou thyself wert present, and deliveredst Dorothy Assheton from the snare in which she was taken. And since then all has gone wrong with her. Having demanded from her familiar the cause why all things ran counter, she was told she had failed in the fulfilment of her promise — that a proselyte was required — and that thou alone wouldst be accepted.”

  “I!” exclaimed Alizon, horror-stricken.

  “Ay, thou!” cried the hag. “No choice was allowed her, and the offering must be made to-night. After a long and painful struggle, thy mother consented.”

  “Oh! no — impossible! you deceive me,” cried the wretched girl.

  “I tell thee she consented,” rejoined Mother Demdike, coldly; “and on this she made instant arrangements to return home, and in spite — as thou know’st — of Sir Ralph and Lady Assheton’s efforts to detain her, set forth with thee.”

  “All this I know,” observed Alizon, sadly— “and intelligence of our departure from the Abbey was conveyed to you, I conclude, by Jennet, to whom I bade adieu.”

  “Thou art right — it was,” returned the hag; “but I have yet more to tell thee, for I will lay the secrets of thy mother’s dark breast fully before thee. Her time is wellnigh run. Thou wert made the price of its extension. If she fails in offering thee up to-night, and thou art here in my keeping, the Fiend, her master, will abandon her, and she will be delivered up to the justice of man.”

  Alizon covered her face with horror.

  After awhile she looked up, and exclaimed, with unutterable an
guish —

  “And I cannot help her!”

  The unpitying hag laughed derisively.

  “She cannot be utterly lost,” continued the young girl. “Were I near her, I would show her that heaven is merciful to the greatest sinner who repents; and teach her how to regain the lost path to salvation.”

  “Peace!” thundered the witch, shaking her huge hand at her, and stamping her heavy foot upon the ground. “Such words must not be uttered here. They are an offence to me. Thy mother has renounced all hopes of heaven. She has been baptised in the baptism of hell, and branded on the brow by the red finger of its ruler, and cannot be wrested from him. It is too late.”

  “No, no — it never can be too late!” cried Alizon. “It is not even too late for you.”

  “Thou know’st not what thou talk’st about, foolish wench,” rejoined the hag. “Our master would tear us instantly in pieces if but a thought of penitence, as thou callest it, crossed our minds. We are both doomed to an eternity of torture. But thy mother will go first — ay, first. If she had yielded thee up to-night, another term would have been allowed her; but as I hold thee instead, the benefit of the sacrifice will be mine. But, hist! what was that? The youth again! Alice Nutter must have given him some potent counter-charm.”

  “He comes to deliver me,” cried Alizon. “Richard!”

  And she arose, and would have flown to the window, but Mother Demdike waved her staff over her, and rooted her to the ground.

  “Stay there till I require thee,” chuckled the hag, moving, with ponderous footsteps, to the door.

  After parleying with Richard, as already related, Mother Demdike suddenly returned to Alizon, and, restoring her to sensibility, placed her hideous face close to her, breathing upon her, and uttering these words, “Be thine eyes blinded and thy brain confused, so that thou mayst not know him when thou seest him, but think him another.”

  The spell took instant effect. Alizon staggered towards the table, Richard was summoned, and on his appearance the scene took place which has already been detailed, and which ended in his losing the talisman, and being ejected from the tower.

  Alizon had been rendered invisible by the old witch, and was afterwards dragged into the arched recess by her, where, snatching the piece of gold from the young girl’s neck, she exclaimed triumphantly —

  “Now I defy thee, Alice Nutter. Thou canst never recover thy child. The offering shall be made to-night, and another year be added to my long term.”

  Alizon groaned deeply, but, at a gesture from the hag, she became motionless and speechless.

  A dusky indistinctly-seen figure hovered near the entrance of the embrasure. Mother Demdike beckoned it to her.

  “Convey this girl to the vault, and watch over her,” she said. “I will descend anon.”

  Upon this the shadowy arms enveloped Alizon, the trapdoor flew open, and the figure disappeared with its inanimate burthen.

  * * *

  CHAPTER XIII. — THE TWO FAMILIARS.

  After seeing Richard depart on his perilous mission to Malkin Tower, Mistress Nutter retired to her own chamber, and held long and anxious self-communion. The course of her thoughts may be gathered from the terrible revelations made by Mother Demdike to Alizon. A prey to the most agonising emotions, it may be questioned if she could have endured greater torment if her heart had been consumed by living fire, as in the punishment assigned to the damned in the fabled halls of Eblis. For the first time remorse assailed her, and she felt compunction for the evil she had committed. The whole of her dark career passed in review before her. The long catalogue of her crimes unfolded itself like a scroll of flame, and at its foot were written in blazing characters the awful words, JUDGMENT AND CONDEMNATION! There was no escape — none! Hell, with its unquenchable fires and unimaginable horrors, yawned to receive her; and she felt, with anguish and self-reproach not to be described, how wretched a bargain she had made, and how dearly the brief gratification of her evil passions had been purchased at the cost of an eternity of woe and torture.

  This change of feeling had been produced by her newly-awakened affection for her daughter, long supposed dead, and now restored to her, only to be snatched away again in a manner which added to the sharpness of the loss. She saw herself the sport of a juggling fiend, whose aim was to win over her daughter’s soul through her instrumentality, and she resolved, if possible, to defeat his purposes. This, she was aware, could only be accomplished by her own destruction, but even this dread alternative she was prepared to embrace. Alizon’s sinless nature and devotion to herself had so wrought upon her, that, though she had at first resisted the better impulses kindled within her bosom, in the end they completely overmastered her.

  Was it, she asked herself, too late to repent? Was there no way of breaking her compact? She remembered to have read of a young man who had signed away his own soul, being restored to heaven by the intercession of the great reformer of the church, Martin Luther. But, on the other hand, she had heard of many others, who, on the slightest manifestation of penitence, had been rent in pieces by the Fiend. Still the idea recurred to her. Might not her daughter, armed with perfect purity and holiness, with a soul free from stain as an unspotted mirror; might not she, who had avouched herself ready to risk all for her — for she had overheard her declaration to Richard; — might not she be able to work out her salvation? Would confession of her sins and voluntary submission to earthly justice save her? Alas! — no. She was without hope. She had an inexorable master to deal with, who would grant her no grace, except upon conditions she would not assent to.

  She would have thrown herself on her knees, but they refused to bend. She would have prayed, but the words turned to blasphemies. She would have wept, but the fountains of tears were dry. The witch could never weep.

  Then came despair and frenzy, and, like furies, lashed her with whips of scorpions, goading her with the memory of her abominations and idolatries, and her infinite and varied iniquities. They showed her, as in a swiftly-fleeting vision, all who had suffered wrong by her, or whom her malice had afflicted in body or estate. They mocked her with a glimpse of the paradise she had forfeited. She saw her daughter in a beatified state about to enter its golden portals, and would have clung to her robes in the hope of being carried in with her, but she was driven away by an angel with a flaming sword, who cried out, “Thou hast abjured heaven, and heaven rejects thee. Satan’s brand is upon thy brow and, unless it be effaced, thou canst never enter here. Down to Tophet, thou witch!” Then she implored her daughter to touch her brow with the tip of her finger; and, as the latter was about to comply, a dark demoniacal shape suddenly rose, and, seizing her by the hair, plunged with her down — down — millions of miles — till she beheld a world of fire appear beneath her, consisting of a multitude of volcanoes, roaring and raging like furnaces, boiling over with redhot lava, and casting forth huge burning stones. In each of these beds of fire thousands upon thousands of sufferers were writhing, and their groans and lamentations arose in one frightful, incessant wail, too terrible for human hearing.

  Over this place of torment the demon held her suspended. She shrieked aloud in her agony, and, shaking off the oppression, rejoiced to find the vision had been caused by her own distempered imagination.

  Meanwhile, the storm, which had obstructed Richard as he climbed the hill, had come on, though Mistress Nutter had not noticed it; but now a loud peal of thunder shook the room, and rousing herself she walked to the window. The sight she beheld increased her alarm. Heavy thunder-clouds rested upon the hill-side, and seemed ready to discharge their artillery upon the course which she knew must be taken by the young man.

  The chamber in which she stood, it has been said, was large and gloomy, with a wainscoting of dark oak. On one of the panels was painted a picture of herself in her days of youth, innocence, and beauty; and on another, a portrait of her unfortunate husband, who appeared a handsome young man, with a stern countenance, attired in a black velvet doublet and clo
ak, of the fashion of Elizabeth’s day. Between these paintings stood a carved oak bedstead, with a high tester and dark heavy drapery, opposite which was a wide window, occupying almost the whole length of the room, but darkened by thick bars and glass, crowded with armorial bearings, or otherwise deeply dyed. The high mantelpiece and its carvings have been previously described, as well as the bloody hearthstone, where the tragical incident occurred connected with Alizon’s early history.

  As Mistress Nutter returned to the fireplace, a plaintive cry arose from it, and starting — for the sound revived terrible memories within her breast — she beheld the ineffaceable stains upon the flag traced out by blue phosphoric fire, while above them hovered the shape of a bleeding infant. Horror-stricken, she averted her gaze, but it encountered another object, equally appalling — her husband’s portrait; or rather, it would seem, a phantom in its place; for the eyes, lighted up by infernal fire, glared at her from beneath the frowning and contracted brows, while the hand significantly pointed to the hearthstone, on which the sanguinary stains had now formed themselves into the fatal word “VENGEANCE!”

  In a few minutes the fiery characters died away, and the portrait resumed its wonted expression; but ere Mistress Nutter had recovered from her terror the back of the fireplace opened, and a tall swarthy man stepped out from it. As he appeared, a flash of lightning illumined the chamber, and revealed his fiendish countenance. On seeing him, the lady immediately regained her courage, and addressed him in a haughty and commanding tone —