At the highest and narrowest point of the ledge, and occupying nearly the whole of its space, with an overhanging rock on one side of her, and a roaring torrent on the other, stood the tall woman, determined apparently, from her attitude and deportment, to oppose the squire’s further progress. As Nicholas advanced, he became convinced that it was the same person he had seen near the cairn; but, when her features grew distinguishable, he found to his surprise that it was Nance Redferne.
“Halloa! Nance,” he cried. “What are you doing here, lass, eh?”
“Cum to warn ye, squoire,” she replied; “yo once did me a sarvice, an ey hanna forgetten it. That’s why I watched ye fro’ the cairn cliffs, an motioned ye to ge back. Boh ye didna onderstand my signs, or wouldna heed ‘em, so ey be cum’d here to stay ye. Yo’re i’ dawnger, ey tell ye.”
“In danger of what, my good woman?” demanded the squire uneasily.
“O’ bein’ robbed, and plundered o’ your gowd,” replied Nance; “there are five men waitin’ to set upon ye a mile further on, at the Bowder Stoans.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Nicholas; “they will get little for their pains. I have no money about me.”
“Dunna think to deceive me, squoire,” rejoined Nance; “ey knoa yo ha borrowed three hundert punds i’ gowd fro’ yung Ruchot Assheton; an os surely os ye ha it aw under your jerkin, so surely win yo lose it, if yo dunna turn back, or ge on without me keepin’ ye company.”
“I have no objection on earth to your company, Nance,” replied the squire; “quite the contrary. But how the devil should these rascals expect me? And, above all, how should they conjecture I should come so well provided? For, sooth to say, such is not ordinarily the case with me.”
“Ey knoa it weel, squoire,” replied Nance, with a laugh; boh they ha received sartin information o’ your movements.”
“There is only one person who could give them such information,” cried Nicholas; “but I cannot, will not suspect him.”
“If yor’re thinkin’ o’ Lawrence Fogg, yo’re na far wide o’ th’ mark, squoire,” replied Nance.
“What! Fogg leagued with robbers — impossible!” exclaimed Nicholas.
“Neaw, it’s nah so unpossible os aw that,” returned Nance; “yo ‘n stare when ey tell yo he has robbed yo mony a time without your being aware on it. Yo were onwise enough to send him round to your friends to borrow money for yo.”
“True, so I was. But, luckily, no one would lend me any,” said Nicholas.
“There yo’re wrong, squoire — fo’ unluckily they aw did,” replied Nance, with a scarcely-suppressed laugh. “Roger Nowell gied him one hundred; Tummus Whitaker of Holme, another; Ruchot Parker o’ Browsholme, another. An more i’ th’ same way.”
“And the rascal pocketed it all, and never brought me back one farthing,” cried Nicholas, in a transport of rage. “I’ll have him hanged — pshaw! hanging’s too good for him. To deceive me, his friend, his benefactor, his patron, in such a manner; to dwell in my house, eat at my table, drink my wine, wear my habiliments, ride my horses, hunt with my hounds! Has the dog no conscience?”
“Varry little, ey’m afear’d,” replied Nance.
“And the worst of it is,” continued the squire — new lights breaking upon him, “I shall be liable for all the sums he has received. He was my confidential agent, and the lenders will come upon me. It must be six or seven hundred pounds that he has obtained in this nefarious way. Zounds! I shall go mad.”
“Yo wur to blame fo’ trustin him, squoire,” rejoined Nance. “Yo ought to ha’ made proper inquiries about him at first, an then yo’d ha’ found out what sort o’ chap he wur. Boh now ey’n tell ye. Lawrence Fogg is chief o’ a band o’ robbers, an aw the black an villanous deeds done of late i’ this place, ha’ been parpetrated by his men. A poor gentleman wur murdert by ’em i’ this varry spot th’ week efore last, an his body cast into t’ river. Fogg, of course, had no hont in the fow deed, boh he would na ha interfered to prevent it if he had bin here, fo’ he never scrupled shedding blood. An if he had bin content wi’ robbin’ yo, squoire, ey wadna ha betrayed him; boh when he proposed to cut your throttle, bekose, os he said, dead men tell neaw teles, ey could howd out nah longer, an resolved to gi’ yo warnin.”
“What a monstrous and unheard-of villain!” cried the squire. “But is he one of the ambuscade?”
Nance replied in the affirmative.
“Then, by heaven! I will confront him — I will hew him down,” pursued Nicholas, griping the hilt of his sword.
“Neaw use, ey tell ye — yo’n be overpowert an kilt,” said Nance. “Tak me wi’ yo, an ey’n carry yo safely through em aw; boh ge alone, or yo’n ne’er see Downham again. An now it’s reet ey should tell ye who Lawrence Fogg really is.”
“What new wonder is in store for me?” cried Nicholas. “Who is he?”
“Maybe yo ha heerd tell that Mother Demdike had a son and a dowter,” replied Nance; “the dowter bein’, of course, Elizabeth Device; and the son, Christopher Demdike, being supposed to be dead. Howsomever, this is not the case, for Lawrence Fogg is he.”
“I guessed as much when you began,” cried Nicholas. “He has a cursedly bad look about the eyes — a damned Demdike physiognomy. What an infernal villain the fellow must be! without a jot of natural feeling. Why, he has this very day assisted at his nephew’s capture, and caused his own sister to be arrested. Oh, I have been properly duped! To lodge a son of that infernal hag in my house — feed him, clothe him, make him my friend — take him, the viper! to my bosom! I have been rightly served. But he shall hang! — he shall hang! That is some consolation, though slight. But how do you know all this, Nance?”
“Dunna ax me,” she replied. “Whatever ey ha’ been to Christopher Demdike, ey bear him neaw love now; fo’, as ey ha towd yo, he is a black-hearted murtherin’ villain. Boh lemme get up behind yo, an ey’n bring yo through scatheless. An to-morrow yo may arrest the whole band at Malkin Tower.”
“Malkin Tower!” exclaimed the squire, in fresh surprise. “What, have these robbers taken up their quarters there? This accounts for all the strange sights said to have been seen there of late, and which I treated as mere fables. But, ah! a terrible thought crosses me. What have I done? Mistress Nutter will be there to-night. And I have sent her. Death and destruction! she will fall into their hands. I must go there at once. I cannot take any assistance with me. That would betray the poor lady.”
“If yo’n trust me, ey’n help yo through the difficulty,” replied Nance.
“Get up then quickly, lass, since it must be so,” rejoined Nicholas.
With this he moved forward, and giving her his hand, she was instantly seated behind him upon Robin, who seemed no way incommoded by his double burthen, but dashed down the further side of the causeway, in answer to a sharp application of the spur. Passing her arms round the squire’s waist, Nance maintained her seat well; and in this way they rattled along, heedless of the increasing difficulties of the road, or the fast-gathering gloom.
The mile was quickly passed, and Nance whispered in the squire’s ear that they were approaching the Boulder Stones. Presently they came to a narrow glen, half-filled with huge rocky fragments, detached from the toppling precipices on either side, and forming an admirable place of ambuscade. One rock, larger than the rest, completely commanded the pass, and, as the squire advanced, a thundering voice from it called to him to stay; and the injunction being disregarded, the barrel of a gun was protruded from the bushes covering its brow, and a shot fired at him. Though well aimed, the ball struck the ground beneath his horse’s feet, and Nicholas continued his way unmoved, while the faulty marksman jumped down the crag. At the same time four other men started from their places of concealment behind the stones, and, levelling their calivers at the fugitives, fired. The sharp discharges echoed along the gorge, and the shots rattled against the rocks, but none of them took effect, and Nicholas might have gone on without further hindrance; but, despite Nance’s rem
onstrances, who urged him to go on, he pulled up to await the coming of the person who had first challenged him. Scarcely an instant elapsed before he was beside the squire, and presented a petronel at his head. Notwithstanding the gloom, Nicholas recognised him.
“Ah! is it thou, accursed traitor?” cried Nicholas. “I could scarcely believe in thy villainy, but now I am convinced.”
“The jade you have got behind you has told you who I am, I see,” replied Fogg. “I will settle with her anon. But this will save further explanations with you!”
And he discharged the petronel full at the squire. But the ball rebounded, as if his doublet had been quilted. It was in fact lined with gold. On seeing the squire unhurt, the robber captain uttered an exclamation of rage and astonishment.
“You are mistaken, you see, perfidious villain,” cried Nicholas. “You have yet to render an account of all the wrongs you have done me, but meantime you shall not pass unpunished.”
And as he spoke, he snatched the petronel from Fogg, and with the but-end dealt him a tremendous blow on the head, felling him to the ground.
By this time the other robbers had descended from the rocks, and, seeing the fall of their leader, rushed forward to avenge him, but Nicholas did not tarry for any further encounter; but, fully satisfied with what he had done, struck spurs into Robin, and galloped off. For a few minutes he could hear the shouts of the men, but they soon afterwards died away.
Little more than half the ravine had been traversed when the rencounter above described took place; but, though the road was still difficult and dangerous, and rendered doubly so by the obscurity, no further hindrance occurred till just as Nicholas was quitting the gloomy intricacies of the gorge, and approaching the more open country beyond it. At this point Robin fell, throwing both him and Nance, and when the animal rose again he was found to be so much injured that it was impossible to mount him. There was no resource but to proceed to Burnley, which was still three or four miles distant, on foot.
In this dilemma, Nance volunteered to provide the squire with another steed, but he resolutely refused the offer.
“No, no — none of your broomsticks for me,” he cried; “no devil’s horses — I don’t know where they may carry me. My own legs must serve me now. I’ll just take poor Robin out of the road, and then trudge off for Burnley as fast as I can.”
With this, he led the horse to a small green mead skirting the stream, and taking off his saddle and bridle, and depositing them carefully under a tree, he patted the animal on the neck, promising to return for him on the morrow, and then set off at a brisk pace, with Nance walking beside him. They had not gone far, however, when the clattering of hoofs was heard behind them, and it was evident that several horsemen were rapidly approaching. Nance stopped, listened for a moment, and then declaring that it was Demdike and his band in pursuit, seized the squire’s arm and drew him out of the road, and under the shelter of some bushes of hazel. The robber captain could only have been stunned, it appeared; and, as soon as he had recovered from the effects of the blow, had mounted his horse, which was concealed, with those of his men, behind the rocks, and started after the fugitives. Such was the construction put upon the matter by Nance, and the event proved it correct. A loud shout from the horsemen, and a sudden halt, proclaimed that poor Robin had been discovered; and this circumstance seemed to give great satisfaction to Demdike, who loudly declared that they were now sure of overtaking the runaways.
“They cannot be far off,” he cried; “but they will most likely attempt to hide themselves, so look well about you.”
So saying, he rode on, and it was evident from the noise, that the men implicitly obeyed his injunctions. Nothing, however, was found, and ere many minutes Demdike came up, and glancing at the hazels, behind which the fugitives were hidden, he discharged a petronel into the largest tree, but as no movement followed the report, he said —
“I thought I saw something move here, but I suppose I was mistaken. No doubt they have got on further than we expected, or have retired into some of the cloughs, in which case it will be useless to search for them. However, we will make sure of them in this way. Two of you shall form an ambuscade near Holme and two further on within half a mile of Burnley, and shall remain on the watch till dawn, so that you will be sure to capture them, and when taken, make away with them without hesitation. Unless my skull had been of the strongest, that butcherly squire would have cracked it, so he shall have no grace from me; and as to that treacherous witch, Nance Redferne, she deserves death at our hands, and she shall have her deserts. I have long suspected her, and, indeed, was a fool to trust one of the vile Chattox brood, who are all my natural enemies — but no matter, I shall have my revenge.”
The men having promised compliance with their captain’s command, he went on —
“As to myself,” he said, “I shall go forthwith, and as fast as my horse can carry me, to Malkin Tower, and I will tell you why. It is not that I dislike the game we are upon, but I have better to play just now. Tom Shaw, the cock-master at Downham, who is in my pay, rode over to Whalley this afternoon, to bring me word that a certain lady, who has long been concealed in the Manor-house, will be taken to Malkin Tower to-night. The intelligence is certain, for he had obtained it from Old Crouch, the huntsman, who is to escort her. Thus, Mistress Nutter, for you all know whom I mean, will fall naturally into our hands, and we can wring any sums of money we like out of her; for though she has abandoned her property to her daughter, Alizon, she can no doubt have as much as she wants, and I will take care she asks for plenty, or I will try the effect of some of those instruments of torture which I was lucky enough to find in the dungeons of Malkin Tower, and which were used for a like purpose by my predecessor, Blackburn, the freebooter. Are you content, my lads?”
“Ay, ay, Captain Demdike,” they replied.
Upon this the whole party set forward, and were speedily out of hearing. As soon as they thought it prudent to come forth, the squire and Nance emerged from their place of shelter.
“What is to be done?” exclaimed the former, who was almost in a state of distraction. “The villain has announced his intention of going to Malkin Tower, and Mistress Nutter will assuredly fall into his hands. Oh! that I could stop him, or get there before him!”
“Yo shan, if yo like to ride wi’ me,” said Nance.
“But how — in what way?” asked Nicholas.
“Leave that to me,” replied Nance, breaking off a long branch of hazel. “Tak howld o’ this,” she cried.
The squire obeyed, and was instantly carried off his legs, and whisked through the air at a prodigious rate.
He felt giddy and confused, but did not dare to leave go, lest he should be dashed in pieces, while Nance’s wild laughter rang in his ears.
Over the bleached and perpendicular crag — startling the eagle from his eyry — over the yawning gully with the torrent roaring beneath him — over the sharp ridges of the hill — over Townley park — over Burnley steeple — over the wide valley beyond, he went — until at last, bewildered, out of breath, and like one in a dream, he alighted on a brown, bare, heathy expanse, and within a hundred yards of a tall, circular stone structure, which he knew to be Malkin Tower.
* * *
CHAPTER V. — THE END OF MALKIN TOWER.
The shades of night had fallen on Downham manor-house, and with an aching heart, and a strong presentiment of ill, Mistress Nutter prepared to quit the little chamber which had sheltered her for more than two months, and where she would willingly have breathed her latest sigh, if it had been so permitted her. Closing the Bible she had been reading, she placed the sacred volume under her arm, and taking up a small bundle, containing her slender preparations for travel, extinguished the taper, and then descending by a secret staircase, passed through a door, fashioned externally like a cupboard, and entered a summer-house, where she found old Crouch awaiting her.
A few whispered words only passed between her and the huntsman, and inform
ing her that the horses were in waiting at the back of the garden, he took the bundle from her, and would fain have relieved her also of the Bible, but she would not part with it, and pressing it more closely to her bosom, said she was quite ready to attend him.
It was a beautiful, starlight night; the air soft and balmy, and laden with the perfume of the flowers. A nightingale was singing plaintively in an adjoining tree, and presently came a response equally tender from another part of the grove. Mistress Nutter could not choose but listen, and the melody so touched her that she was half suffocated by repressed emotion, for, alas! the relief of tears was denied her.
Motioning her somewhat impatiently to come on, Crouch struck into a sombre alley, edged by clipped yew-trees, and terminating in a plantation, through which a winding path led to the foot of the hill whereon the mansion was situated. By daylight this was a beautiful walk, affording exquisite glimpses through the trees of the surrounding scenery, and commanding a noble view of Pendle Hill, the dominant point in the prospect. But even now to the poor lady, so long immured in her cell-like chamber, and deprived of many of nature’s choicest blessings, it appeared delightful. The fresh air, redolent of new-mown hay, fanned her pale cheek and feverish brow, and allayed her agitation and excitement. The perfect stillness, broken only by the lowing of the cattle in the adjoining pastures, by the drowsy hum of the dor-fly, or the rippling of the beck in the valley, further calmed her; and the soothing influence was completed by a contemplation of the serene heavens, wherein were seen the starry host, with the thin bright crescent of the new moon in the midst of them, diffusing a pearly light around her. One blot alone appeared in the otherwise smiling sky, and this was a great, ugly, black cloud lowering over the summit of Pendle Hill.
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