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"Master," quoth Roger, shivering and glancing about him, "here is Hangstone Waste, and yonder the swamps of Hundleby Fen you can smell them from here! And 'tis an evil place, this, for 'tis said the souls of murdered folk do meet here betimes, and hold high revel when the moon be full. Here, on wild nights witches and warlocks ride shrieking upon the wind, with goblins damned "
"Ha master, master!" cried he 'twixt chattering teeth, "did'st not hear it, master?" "Nay," answered Beltane, checking his horse, "what was it? where away?" "'Twas a cry, master beyond the marsh yonder. 'Tis there again!" "'Twas an owl, Roger." "'Twas a soul, master, a poor damned soul and desolate! We shall see dire and dreadful sights on Hangstone Waste this night, master holy Saint Cuthbert!
"I behold things with mind unclouded, Roger." "Save by enchantments damned, master. Since that evil day we met yon accursed witch of Hangstone, hast never been thyself." "Now do ye mind me how this woman did speak me of marvels and wonders, Roger " "Artifice, lord devilish toys to lure thee to fouler bewitchments." "Howbeit, I will seek her out."
Of a sudden, from the gloom beside the way rose a woman's scream, and thereafter a great and fierce roar; and presently came Walkyn with his torch and divers of his men, dragging a woman in their midst, and lo! it was the witch of Hangstone Waste. Now she, beholding Beltane's face beneath his lifted vizor, cried out for very joy: "Now heaven bless thee, Duke Beltane! Ah, my lord hear me!"
"Lord," said he, "be not beguiled by yon foul witches' arts: go not to Hangstone Waste lest she be-devil thee with goblins or transform thee to a loathly toad. Thou wilt not go, master?" "At the full o' the moon, Roger!" "Why then," muttered Roger gulping, and clenching trembling hands, "we must needs be plague-smitten, blasted and everlastingly damned, for needs must I go with thee."
"Not here, my lord but, an thou would'st learn more, come unto Hangstone Waste at the full o' the moon, stand you where the death-stone stands, that some do call the White Morte-stone. There shalt thou learn many things, perchance. Thou hast this day saved a witch from cruel death and a lowly beggar-maid from shame. A witch! A beggar-maid! The times be out a joint, methinks.
A sudden shout from the vanward, a crashing in the underbrush beside the way, a shrill cry, and three or four of Eric's ragged rogues appeared dragging a woman betwixt them, at sight of whom the air was filled with fierce shouts and cries. "The witch! Ha! 'Tis the witch of Hangstone Waste! To the water with the hag! Nay, burn her! Burn her!"
It had been an evening of cloud, but now the sky was clear and the moon shone bright and round as they reached that desolate, wind-swept heath that went by the name of Hangstone Waste, a solitary place at all times but more especially wild and awful 'neath the ghostly moon; wherefore Roger went wide-eyed and fearful, and kept fast hold of Beltane's stirrup.
Now while Beltane yet stared, amazed by her saying, the bushes parted near by and a hooded figure stepped forth silent and soft of foot, at sight of whom all men gave back a pace, and Roger, trembling, drew a second cross in the dust with his bow-stave, what time a shout went up: "Ha! the Witch 'tis the witch of Hangstone Waste herself!"
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