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Updated: June 17, 2025
Pressing against it, the slab moved on one side, and disclosed a flight of steps. "Go up there," cried Nance to the squire, "and when ye get to th' top, yo'n find another stoan, wi' a nob in it. Yo canna miss it. Go on." "But you!" cried the squire. "Will you not come with us?" "Ey'n come presently," replied Nance, with a strange smile. "Ey ha summat to do first.
"By th' maskins, lass, ey conna tell," replied Blackrod; "boh whotever it be, ey'll protect ye." "Tak care o' me, Phil," ejaculated Nancy Holt, pressing close to her lover's side. "Eigh, that I win," rejoined the forester. "Ey dunna care for ghosts so long as yo are near me, Phil," said Nancy, tenderly. "Then ey'n never leave ye, Nance," replied Phil.
"Ey ha' heerd say hoo be varry comely an kind-hearted, an ey should be sorry onny harm befell her." "Mary Baldwyn, who will soon lie there, was quite as comely and kind-hearted as Alizon," cried the hag, "and yet Mother Demdike had no pity on her." "An that's true," replied the sexton. "Weel, weel; ey'n do your bidding." "Hold!" exclaimed Richard, stepping forward.
Ey'n join ye os soon os ey con scrush this varment's heaod agen a stoan. Ha!" he added, joyfully, "Ey'n found t' thwittle. Go go. Ey'n soon be efter ye."
"A white dove," replied Jennet, determined not to tell him any thing about her strange dream. "A white dove!" echoed Jem. "Gi' it me, an ey'n wring its neck, an get it roasted for supper." "Ye shan do nah such thing, Jem," replied Jennet. "Ey mean to gi' it to Alizon." "Weel, weel, that's reet," rejoined Jem, blandly, "it'll may a protty offering. Let's look at it."
Leave the wretched man to the chastisement of Heaven. And now, farewell! All your kindly efforts to induce me to fly are vain." "Yo winnaw go?" cried Hal o'Nabs, scratching his head. "I cannot," replied the abbot. "Cum wi' meh to t' windaw, then," pursued Hal, "and tell Ebil so. He'll think ey'n failed else." "Willingly," replied the abbot.
"Yo'n get nother eggs nor bacon nor sack here, ey can promise ye. Ele an whoat-kekes mun sarve your turn. Go to t' barn wi' t' other grooms, and play at kittle-pins or nine-holes wi' hin, an ey'n send ye some ele." "I'm quite comfortable where I am, thank you, hostess," replied Potts, "and have no desire to play at kittle-pins or nine-holes. But what does this bottle contain?"
"Eigh! ey thowt he wur i' a strawnge fettle," replied Bess; "an so he be a lawyer fro' Lunnon, eh? Weel," she added, laughing, and displaying two ranges of very white teeth, "he'll remember Bess Whitaker, t' next time he comes to Pendle Forest." "And she'll remember me," rejoined Potts. "Neaw more sawce, mon," cried Bess, "or ey'n raddle thy boans again."
"Thanke'e friend," replied Potts, taking his arm. "A word at parting, Master Nicholas. This is not the only discovery of witchcraft I've made. I've another case, somewhat nearer home. Ha! ha!" With this, he hobbled off in the direction of the alehouse, his steps being traceable along the dusty road like the course of a watering-cart. "Ey'n go efter him," growled Jem.
"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.
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