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Updated: June 24, 2025
Then it was," pursued Demdike, vehemently, and regarding the abbot with flashing eyes "then it was that I was again mortally injured by you. Then your ruthless decree to the clergy went forth. My child was denied baptism, and became subject to the fiend." "Alas! alas!" exclaimed Paslew.
"I require none," replied Paslew, resolutely. With this he mounted the ladder, with as much firmness and dignity as if ascending the steps of a tribune.
Connected with this apartment was the beautiful oratory built by Paslew, wherein he had kept his last vigils; and though now no longer applied to purposes of worship, still wearing from the character of its architecture, its sculptured ornaments, and the painted glass in its casements, a dim religious air.
The offertory and post-communion were over; the "requiescant in pace" awful words addressed to living ears were pronounced; and the mass was ended. All prepared to depart. The prior descended from the altar to embrace and take leave of the abbot; and at the same time the Earl of Derby came from the stall. "Has all been done to your satisfaction, John Paslew?" demanded the earl, as he drew near.
If not brought hither by thee, or by her mother, she would have come of her own accord. I have watched her, and marked her for my own. Besides, she is fated. The curse of Paslew clings to her." As the words were uttered, the shade of the abbot glided forwards, and, touching the shuddering child upon the brow with its finger, vanished with a lamentable cry.
At length, the monk spoke. "And the prisoner perished in the cell?" he demanded in a hollow voice. "I thought so till to-night," replied the abbot. "But if he escaped it, it must have been by miracle; or by aid of those powers with whom he was charged with holding commerce." "He did escape!" thundered the monk, throwing back his hood. "Look up, John Paslew.
"By the holy patriarchs and prophets; by the prelates and confessors; by the doctors of the church; by the holy abbots, monks, and eremites, who dwelt in solitudes, in mountains, and in caverns; by the holy saints and martyrs, who suffered torture and death for their faith, I curse thee, witch!" cried Paslew. "May the malediction of Heaven and all its hosts alight on the head of thy infant "
"A brother of the same order as yourself," replied the monk, in deep and thrilling accents, but without raising his hood; "and I am come to hear your confession by command of the Earl of Derby." "Are you of this abbey?" asked Paslew, tremblingly. "I was," replied the monk, in a stern tone; "but the monastery is dissolved, and all the brethren ejected." "Your name?" cried Paslew.
"What leader will they own, then?" demanded the abbot, scornfully. "The Earl of Derby," replied Demdike. "He is on his way thither with Lord Mounteagle from Preston." "Ha!" exclaimed Paslew, "let me go meet them, then. But thou triflest with me, fellow. Thou canst know nothing of this. Whence gott'st thou thine information?" "Heed it not," replied the other; "thou wilt find it correct.
"Yeigh," replied Hal. "Whot han yo dun wi' t' steigh?" cried Ebil. "Never yo moind," returned Hal, "boh help t' abbut down." Paslew thought it vain to resist further, and with the help of Hal o' Nabs and the miller, and further aided by some irregularities in the wall, he was soon safely landed near the entrance of the passage. Abel fell on his knees, and pressed the abbot's hand to his lips.
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