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As the prisoners were removed, Nance Redferne looked round her, and, catching the eye of Nicholas, made a slight motion with her head, as if bidding him farewell. The squire returned the mute valediction. "Poor Nance!" he exclaimed, compassionately, "I sincerely pity her. Would there was any means of saving her!" "There is none," observed Sir Ralph Assheton.
It did not change, however, as was expected by the credulous hinds, into an old woman, and they gave vent to their disappointment and rage in renewed threats against Nan Redferne. The dead rat was hurled at her by Jem, but missing its mark, it hit Master Potts on the head, and nearly knocked him off the cross, upon which he had mounted to obtain a better view of the proceedings.
These were the spawn of the old snake, and, until they were entirely exterminated, there could be no security against a recurrence of the evil. Again, there was Nance Redferne, old Chattox's grand-daughter, a comely woman enough, but a reputed witch, and an undoubted fabricator of clay images. She was still at liberty, though she ought to be with the rest in the dungeons of Lancaster Castle.
As Nicholas and his companions forced their way through this crowd, which was momently receiving additions as fresh arrivals took place, the squire recognised many old acquaintances, and was nodding familiarly right and left, when he encountered a woman's eye fixed keenly upon him, and to his surprise beheld Nance Redferne.
In the midst of them was the "dendrological man," enclosed in a framework of green boughs, like that borne by a modern Jack-in-the-green. A ring was formed by the mummers, and the round commenced to lively music. While the mazy measure was proceeding, Nance Redferne, who had quitted the stage with Nicholas, and now stood close to him among the spectators, said in a low tone, "Look there!"
A general movement took place in that direction, the crowd being headed by the squire and the beadle, but when they came up, they found only Nan Redferne standing behind the obelisk. "Where the devil is the old witch gone, Dick?" cried Nicholas, in dismay. "I thought I saw her standing there with her grand-daughter," replied Richard; "but in truth I did not watch very closely."
On rising to the surface, a few seconds after his immersion, he roared lustily for help, but would infallibly have been carried over the weir, if Jem Device had not flung him the rope now disengaged from Nance Redferne, and which he succeeded in catching.
"This sapphire ring was given by the King to my cousin, Richard Assheton, this morning, and stolen from him by Jem Device." "Examine their features again," said Nance Redferne, waving her hands over them. "Yo win aw knoa them now." The woman's face instantly altered. Many years being added to it in a breath. The man changed equally.
"I will tell thee why, old hag," cried Nicholas; "he was inflamed by the beauty of thy grand-daughter Nancy here, and it was to please Tom Redferne, her sweetheart then, but her spouse since, that thou bewitchedst him to death." "That reason will not avail thee, Nicholas," rejoined Mother Chattox, with a derisive laugh.
This assurance was a balm to poor Sukey's wounded spirit, and she replied with a well-pleased smile, "Ey hope ey dunna look like one, Lorry." "Not a bit, lass," said Blackrod, lifting a huge ale-cup to his lips. "Your health, sweetheart." "What think ye then o' Nance Redferne?" observed Jennet.
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