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"Ay," answered Dick, "like old witch Sarah when they burned her in her house. She screeched a lot, though some say it was her cat that screeched and she died mum." "If we could get into the water now, Dick?" He shook his ash-hued head. "The pools are frozen. Moreover, as well die of heat as cold; I love not ice-water." "What counsel, then, Dick?"
But still she refused to go on board the flag-ship. Leclerc expostulated and pleaded, but the lovely witch laughed in his face and still persisted that she would never go. Word was brought to Napoleon. He made short work of her resistance. "Bring a litter," he said, with one of his steely glances. "Order six grenadiers to thrust her into it, and see that she goes on board forthwith."
Behind this group came King Krewl, wearing his jeweled crown and swinging in his hand a slender golden staff with a ball of clustered gems at one end. "Where are they going?" asked Trot. "To the house of the Wicked Witch, I fear," Pon replied. "Come, let us follow them, for I am sure they intend to harm my dear Gloria." "Won't they see us?" she asked timidly. "We won't let them.
Kebby was a dangerous old witch, who, a century back, would have been burnt at the stake; and the worst possible person for Berwin to have in his house. Had he known of her lying and prating she would not have remained an hour under his roof; but Mrs. Kebby was cunning enough to steer clear of such a danger in the most dexterous manner.
"Oh, my pretty Cherry," she cried, taking the dead bird from the point of the rapier. "You wretch! to harm an innocent little creature like that!" and she smoothed the feathers of the bird and kissed its little head. "Take it from her! kill the witch!" cried some rude women in the outer circles of the crowd.
If I were to whistle, by-and-by, in the tone that tells my danger, she would break this stable-door down, and rush into the room to me. Nothing will keep her from me then, stone-wall or church-tower. Ah, Winnie, Winnie, you little witch, we shall die together." Then he turned away with a joke, and began to feed her nicely, for she was very dainty.
In succession to Zinita whom Dingaan slew with her children, I am your Inkosikaas, your head-wife, O Umslopogaas." "That I know well enough," said Umslopogaas, "what of it?" "This, that you neglect me for other women, as you neglected Zinita for Nada the Beautiful, Nada the witch. I am childless, as are all your wives because of the curse that this Nada left behind her.
This was all twenty years ago, and I believe that now the Inn has been turned into an Arts Club, and there are tea-parties and weekly fashion papers where there had once been those bloody fights and Mother Figgis sitting like some witch over the fire; but it is no matter.
"By what warrant I know not you besiege us here, threatening this Abbey and its Religious with fire and sword. I am told that Cicely Foterell is your leader. Say, then, to that escaped witch that I hold the man she calls her husband, and who is the father of her base-born child, a prisoner.
"I've nought against your wife. But just you see, if the Lord'll put a child in your care. 'Tis not likely to me." "You leave the Lord alone and cast off the spell," he whispered hoarsely, making for the old woman, "or I'll throttle you, old witch that you are." He was gray in the face, and his thin, crooked fingers clutched the air. "Have a care, your own child lies abed and can hear you."
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