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"And see, the wizard hath a black hound with him! It may be his wife, in that likeness." "Naw, ey knoas t' hount reet weel, Feyther Haydocke," replied the forester; "it's a Saint Hubert, an' a rareun fo' fox or badgert. Odds loife, feyther, whoy that's t' black bandyhewit I war speaking on."
It is therefore that I have placed her and her husband under the ban of the Church; pronounced sentence of excommunication against them; and commanded all my clergy to refuse baptism to their infant daughter, newly born." "Wea's me! ey knoas 't reet weel, lort abbut," replied Ashbead, "and Bess taks t' sentence sore ta 'ert!"
"Noa sooner said than done," cried Ashbead, "for, be t' Lort Harry, ey see him stonding be yon moss poo' o' top t' hill, though how he'n getten theer t' Dule owny knoas." And he pointed out a tall dark figure standing near a little pool on the summit of the mountain, about a hundred yards from them. "Talk of ill, and ill cometh," observed Father Haydocke.
He is a stranger here." "Ey knoas neawt abowt him, lort abbut, 'cept that he cum to Pendle a twalmont agoa," replied Ashbead; "boh ey knoas fu' weel that t'eawtcumbling felly robt me ot prettiest lass i' aw Lonkyshiar aigh, or i' aw Englondshiar, fo' t' matter o' that." "What manner of man is he?" inquired the abbot.
"Ey knoas it, lad, ey knoas it," replied Elizabeth; "boh fo my own pert ey'm nah afeerd. They darna touch me; an' if they dun, ey con defend mysel reet weel. Here's a letter to thy gran-mother," she added, giving him a sealed packet. "Take care on it." "Fro Mistress Nutter, ey suppose?" asked Jem. "Eigh, who else should it be from?" rejoined Elizabeth.
"Boh, if ey might choose betwixt him an yunk Mester Ruchot Assheton's grey gelding, Merlin, ey knoas which ey'd tak." "Robin, of course," said Nicholas. "Nah, squoire, it should be t'other," replied the groom. "You're no judge of a horse, Peter," rejoined Nicholas, shrugging his shoulders. "May be not," said the groom, "boh ey'm bound to speak truth. An see! Tum Lomax is bringin' out Merlin.
No interruption was offered to Hal's egress, but he stopped within the court-yard, where Demdike awaited him, and unfastened the leathern thong that bound together his hands. "Now go and bring the child to me," said the wizard. "Nah, ey'st neaw bring it ye myself," rejoined Hal. "Ey knoas better nor that. Be at t' church porch i' half an hour, an t' bantlin shan be delivered to ye safe an sound."
If y'on let him down into t' river, Ebil, ey'n manage to get him off." "Weel thowt on, Nab," cried the miller, "theawst nah been mey mon seven year fo nowt. Theaw knoas t' ways o' t' pleck." "Os weel os onny rotten abowt it," replied Hal o' Nabs. "Go down to t' grindin'-room, an ey'n follow i' a troice."
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