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Updated: June 19, 2025
"Well, I've seen him about for some time now, and I've never seen any of the good, Maxted." "Ah, but I have," said the Vicar, while Tom busied himself doing nothing to the telescope, and began to take a good deal of interest in the discussion about his enemy. "You will grant, I suppose, that Mother Warboys is about as unamiable, cantankerous an old woman as ever breathed?"
He knew of the Warboys, Lancaster, and York trials and he probably had come into close contact with the Northampton cases. He had read, too, several of the books on the subject, such as Scot, Wier, and Perkins. His omission of King James's work is therefore not only curious but significant. A second edition of his book was published in 1625. See Triall of Witchcraft, ch. See ibid., p. 48.
But as he took them from the nail in the little hall, he felt that if he opened the door, the shooting of the bolts would alarm Mrs Fidler and the maids, so he stole back to his room, closed the door, listened again at his window, and became sure that some one was in the mill-yard. "It's Pete Warboys," he said to himself as he listened. "What mischief is he after now?"
"Is he hurt?" asked the Vicar, as Uncle Richard now sat up. "Don't think so, sir," said one of the village people. "We can't find nothing the matter with him." "I told you so I told you all so," continued Mother Warboys, waving her stick. "And I tell you so," cried the Vicar angrily. "Go along home, you wicked old she Shimei.
He had met Pete Warboys twice, but the fellow looked innocency itself, staring hard and vacantly at him, who longed to charge him with the theft, but felt that he could not without better evidence. Then a bright thought came as he was polishing away opposite his uncle, and using the finest emery.
The next minute he was under his bedroom window, feeling unwilling to climb up, for he was getting cold and stiff; but he dragged himself on to the sill, got in, and without stopping to undress, threw himself on the bed and fell into a sound sleep, in which he dreamed that two policemen came down from London with the big black prison van and carried off Pete Warboys, who was taken to the Old Bailey to be tried for stealing the round wooden dome-shaped structure which formed the top of the mill.
Eleven years later came the trials which brought out the pamphlet: The most strange and admirable discoverie of the three Witches of Warboys, arraigned, convicted and executed at the last assises at Huntingdon ..., London, 1593. There can be no doubt as to the historical character of this pamphlet. The Throckmortons, the Cromwells, and the Pickerings were all well known in Huntingdonshire.
Then Tom's thoughts came back to earth, and Pete Warboys' hole under the great pine-tree, and he was still busy over that, and the great gipsy-like boy's habits, poaching, probably stealing, and making himself a nuisance to everybody, when he caught sight of the lad himself peering into a patch of coppice evidently watching something, that something proving to be the dog, which soon after leaped out into the road.
In this spirit then he kept on telling himself that he might as well turn back now, but all the same he kept trotting on after the dog, putting off the return till he had gone a little farther and a little farther, and always keeping on, till all at once it seemed to be a little lighter on ahead, and he strained his eyes in the full expectation of seeing Pete Warboys waiting for him.
"Yah!" Tom felt indignant. "Get down off that wall, sir!" he cried. This roused Pete Warboys, who, as the daring outlaw of Furzebrough, desired to play his part manfully, especially so since he was on the other side of the said wall; and, wrinkling up his snub nose, he cried "She-arn't! 'Tain't your wall." "Get down!" cried Tom fiercely. "Get down yerself. Who are you, I should like to know?"
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