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LoNDoN:
Printed by A. & R. Spottiswoode,
New-Street-Square.
THE
wITCH-FINDER:
The WISDOM OF OUR ANCESTORS.
A Romance,
“ THE LOLLARDS,” “ OTHER TIMES,"
“ CALTHORPE,” &c.
Ay mel, said I within my wearied breast,
And sighed sad, wherefore did God erect
This stage of misery? 4-
DR. H. MoRE.
TNT THREE VOLUMES,
VOL. I.
LONDON :
PRINTED FOR,
LoNGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, BRowN, AND GREEN,
PATERNOSTER-ROW.
1 824.
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Z V
PREFACE.
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f
To the period with which the following
tale is connected, public attention has
recently been drawn. But it appeared
tO the Author of the Witch-finder, that
there were peculiarities which the plans
of his abler predecessors did not embrace
sufficiently curious to interest. These,
scattered before, he has endeavoured to
unite and render subservient to the pur-
poses of romance. He has avoided the
most prominent events of the time to
• A 3
wi PREFACE.
delineate scenes which were the conse-
quences of those events, and the leading »
characters of that day are left to the
historian, while others, less conspicuous,
but not less remarkable, are brought be-
fore the reader. His chief objects have
been to exhibit in action the ideas once
general on the subject of witchcraft, and
to depict the state to which the drama
was reduced when monarchy was no
In a work, the primary object ofwhich
is amusement, rigid attention to chro-
nology can hardly be deemed important,
that the incidents supposed, are not at
ariance with the things that were. It
would be fatal to the interest of a tale,
introduced which could not
- - - es. - ºe - fac F





PREFACE- vii
by possibility have occurred. Every
one would treat with just derision a
novel founded on the transactions of
1660, which allowed the hero the accom-
modation of portable gas lights, and the
heroine the advantages of vaccination,
but the addition of a few months to a
long life, and the transfer of certain
exploits from an earlier to a later period
of the career of the same individual,
will, perhaps, be deemed anachronisms
too venial to require a formal apology.
The Witchfinder of the following Pages
is not known to have infested society
quite so long as he is here represented o
do, but the history of our jurisprudence
records in characters of blood the preva


viii PREFACE.
Matthew Hopkins to flourish down to a
much later period.
In the middle ages, the devil was be-
lieved to interfere in propriapersona with
the common concerns ofmankind, but as
refinement advanced, he was supposed to
get into the way ofacting by deputy; and
witches and wizards were entrusted with
the management of those affairs which
were before under his own immediate
superintendence. This persuasiongained
ground in England, after many of the
greatest minds that ever existed, had
shed their light on the land which they
ennobled. Age, deformity, and poverty,
though it is difficult to imagine that these
could be the prizes which Satan would
offer to encourage sin, were amongst the
PREFACE. ix
strongest proofs of guilt. They led to
accusation, insured conviction, and were
followed by the death of the innocent,
amidst the execrations of their fellow-
CreatUreS.
It was not by the foolish, the ignor-
ant, or the cruel, that these proceed-
ings were exclusively sanctioned. The
wise, the learned, and the humane con-
curred in the severities inflicted for
crimes which it was not possible for
human offenders to commit, and the
barbarities perpetrated to punish witch-
craft, which were not confined to one
country, exhibit the most awful instances
of perverted intellect to be found in the
history of mankind.
In this romance, though th °z-

X PREFACE.
personages are imaginary, the incidents
are generally true. The opinions, topics,
of conversation, and amusements of the
day, are attempted to be faithfully given.
Those who have attended to such mat-
ters will find much here which they
have seen elsewhere; but the toil which
has been bestowed to present in one
view circumstances bearing on the same
points, which lay widely apart, may, per-
haps, be acceptable where it will not sur-
prise, and not unpleasantly remind where
it cannot inform.
There are a few things, however, which
the Author flatters himself will be new
to the public. The kindness of Antiqua-
rian friends hasplaced in his hands some
fits of their more extended re-

PREFACE. xi
searches, and facts connected with the
drama, and with the politics of the day,
are given, which, he believes, have
never appeared in print. The Ele-
phant’s Bill or estimate, is genuine, and
the mandate alluded to, revoking a per-
mission previously granted for the build-
ing of an amphitheatre, he is enabled
to give from an exact copy of the
document, contributed by a gentleman,
whose ancestor had an opportunity of
taking it from the original. The “ ex-
ceptions” mentioned as taken to certain
plays are also authentic.


THE
W I T C H – F IN DER.
CHAPTER I.
How boldly and how saucily he talk'd !
And how unlike the lump I took him for,
The piece of ignorant dough, he stood up to me !
BEAUMoNT and FLETcHFR.
On the right of the town of St. Albans,
as the traveller towards London ap-
proaches the Abbey, through an ancient
gateway a gently sloping path conducts
him to the river Ver. Crossing the
little wooden bridge thrown over it, he
beholds some shapeless masses formed
of broad square tiles lying flat in courses
about three feet distant from each other,
voL. I. B
2 THE WITCH-FIN DER-
the spaces between being filled up with
fint and cement. These are the remains
of a wall or walls which once encom-
passed a considerable area. The frag-
ments sometimes form a side or a back
to modern sheds; in others they retain
not sufficient elevation to be thus made
available, and are seen clothed with ve-
getation and surmounted by bushes.
Or rased to the ground, the last effort
of the conqueror's insolence exhausted,
Roman refinement, which converted the
noblest emblem of peace into the most
dreaded engine of vengeful war, appears
scornfully to have urged the plough
over the ruins of the once proud city of
Verulam.
Here, at the close of the summer of
1659, a traveller attended by a single
servant, rode slowly towards the abbey
which bears the name of the first English
saint. Though past the prime of life,
THE WITCH-FINDER. Z
hisperson exhibited not those indications
of decay which entitle their wearer to
be called an old man. His countenance
was pale; his features were noble and
expressive ; his eyes dark and bright,
but rather sunken; and his whole appear-
ance gave an idea of weariness, which
however to a common observer, would
have proclaimed itself the offspring of
mental toil rather than of bodily fa-
tigue. .
He frequently paused to contemplate
the interesting vestiges of the ancient
city, which were at that period more con-
siderable objects than they are now, after
enduring a century and a half’s added
dilapidation from the hands of the curious,
who desire to call a portion of whatever
they see their own, impossible as it may
be for that portion to furnish any thing
like an image of the original from which
it is purloined. The individual whom
Ä#* -
B 2
4 THE WITCH-FINDEK.
we have described, with whatever emo-
tion he might view the traces of a
vanished city, manifested no ambition to
become the proprietor of so much of
Verulam as he could put in his pocket;
and his eyes glistened with momentary
indignation, when he saw a boy striving
to tear down a fragment, the removal of
which might enable him to carry away
an entire tile.
“Stay your hand, foolish boy!” he
exclaimed; “wherefore should it pleasure
you to overthrow that, which the lapse
of many ages has spared ? But it mat-
ters not,” he added, “go on; destruction
is the business of mankind, and you are
but learning the trade, which those more
advanced than yourself are always en-
deavouring to teach.”
The servant, a short thick-set man, with
a countenance which, if it couldnot always
have set wind and weather at defiance,
"THE WITCH-FINDER. 5
might securely dosonow, had pressed for-
ward on hearing the voice of his master,
and was about to bestow on the urchin
some admonition of his own, when the
altered tone of the former seemed to
satisfy him that his interference was
unnecessary, and master and man ad-
vanced as before, in silence.
They passed through the gateway, and
approached the Woolpack Inn. The
landlord presented himself, while the ser-
vant, who had jumped from the animal
he rode, seized the bridle of the other
horse, as his master dismounted.
“Tell me, friend,” said the traveller,
“ ifaught has been entrusted to your care
within the past hour, for one of the
name of Challoner ?”
The landlord answered in the nega-
tive. A cloud of disappointment lowered
over the enquirer's countenance; when a
man entered the gateway, bearing a
B 3
6 THE WITCH-FINDER-
wooden case, in which a rose-tree, the
blossoms of which were just expanding,
had been planted. He drew near Chal-
loner, (that was the name of the tra-
veller,) who remarked somewhat re-
proachfully,
“ You have loitered, or you must have
been here before me.”
“ May it please you, and so I was,”
the man replied; “ but for that you had
given me such strict charge oftiis same
flower, I liked not to give it into other
hands than your own, wherefore I tarried
near the inn till you should come.”
“Goodfellow!” said Challoner, whose
displeasure was now changed to approba-
tion, “ I commendthy prudence.”
And having bestowed something more
than commendation, he took the rose-tree
from the man, and passed into the house.
To the kindenquiries which were made
as to what refreshment he would choose,
THE WITCH-FIN DER. 7
Challoner only replied by desiring to be
shown to a chamber. Conducted to one,
he seated himself near the window, and
deposited the flower with much care on a
table. He drew a chair, seated himself,
and his ardent gaze was fixed on the rose.
Though his words were few, and not in-
tended to attract notice, the landlord took
up the idea that there was something ex-
traordinary about his new inmate. He
would gladly have attempted to penetrate
the secret which he considered to exist.
But this could not be done without draw-
ing the stranger into conversation, and
before he had made a regular effort of
that sort, their interview was at an end;
for on his desiring to know if his honour
had any commands, he was answered in a
mild but peremptory tone, “ None, but
that you will leave me to myself.”
“ Methinks,” said he, having grumbled
his way down stairs, and joined a party
B 4
8 THE WITCH-FINDER.
who were then engaged at quoits in the
yard, “ methinks, roses must have be-
come the gentlemen's game, instead of
tulips. My new guest seems to set as
great store by the flower which yon fel-
low brought, as if he expected to make
all the money in the world of it, as Mas-
ter Thorpe once looked to do of those
tulips with the fine name, which folks say
he held to be a fortune, but which after
all proved not worth a groat.”
“Why, what is he doing with it then ?"
cried one of the players. -
“ Don't bawl so loud,” the landlord
answered. “ See you not his window is
open, and he will hear that we talk of him-
He is doing nothing particular, but his
manner is somehow not like that of any
other man. But stay, here comes his ser-
vant; you shall hear me get it all out of
him, and suck his brains as you would an
egg, after robbing a hen-roost.'
''FIE WITCH-FINDER- 9
The man drew near, halted, and looked
as if anxious to mark the progress of the
game, in which the butcher, the baker, the
plasterer, and the blacksmith of the town
were engaged. The attention of the
worthy master of the inn seemed wholly
taken up by it, and that of the rest of the
company was really so.
“You shall do well to beat that," cried
the baker, who had thrown his quoit with
such exactness, that it had ringed the
stake, to approach which was the object
of their competition. A.
“ Chalk the hob, Tom,” said the black-
smith, whose turn it was to throw; “or
drop a little flour on it from thy doublet,
and mayhap I may yet do as good a thing,
and make your ringing the shoe go for
nothing, by a back edger.”
Nor was the boast a vain one. Though
the smith's quoit failed to encircle the
ho as that of his antagonist did it fell
B 5
IC THE WITCH -FINDER-
so close that its edge came nearer to the
iron- This was apparent to every one
but the baker; who denying that his throw
had been surpassed, a piece of stick was
procured for the purpose of measuring
the spaces which intervened between the
quoits and the hob, at which they had
been thrown. The butcher was kneeling
down to perform this office, and all pre-
sent awaited his award in silence, when
the voice of Challoner was heard. -
“ Beautiful object! and sweet as beau-
tiful. O thou wert happily chosen as the
representative of Emma, ere frailty had
9 3
degraded, and brutality destroyed
The idlefs heard these sounds, stared
at each other, and for a moment forgot
the game.
y
“Why he's talking to his rose,” cried
the butcher, and commenced a horse-
laugh; when encountering the frown of «
the stranger's servant, who had remained
among the players, he checked his bois-
THE WITCH- FINDER. 11
terous merriment to utter the remark,
“ An odd fancy, my masters.”
But the first note of his laugh reached
the ear of Challoner, and proved the
signal for closing the casement. Him
they could hear no more, and there was
less chance of being heard themselves.
But the steady gravity of his man, who
calmly met the stare of each in turn,
prevented that unrestrained license of
speech, in which, but for his presence,
they would now have indulged.
The landlord considered it time to
make good the promise he had given.
He doubted not of being able to engage
the man in conversation, though he had
failed with the master, and accordingly
began with a familiar smile.
“ Friend, may I ask you a question ?”
“As many as you like. It is my own
fault if I answer them.” 4 , 3
“ Very true, Robert – I think I
B 6
F 2 THE WITCH-FINDER.
heard your master call you Robert. .
see you are a very lively fellow.”
“ Do you?"
“Yes; and moreover I see you are fond
of quoits." äs-
“There you happen to be out. For
notwithstanding I have heard my master
say it is an ancient game, and though
it may be fit for you and your com-
panions, I think it a very stupid sort of
exercise.”
“ Is it so? Nay, then, I marvel you
could find amusement in looking on it
so long.” -
“ Marry, my noble knight of the
bung, here again you are deceived. I
have neither sought, nor found amuse-
ment in seeing idlers throw one lump of
iron at another"
“ Nay, but you forget you have tar-
ried for no other purpose but to look.”
“ I cry you mercy; I but tarried to
THE WITCH-FINDER. 13
see that you or your hostler did not steal
the corn just given to the horses.”
The landlord felt ruffled by the
speech of Robert, as well as by the laugh
which it called forth from the rest of the
company, who enjoyed the sarcasm di-
rected against their host, remembering
as they did, how confidently he had
promised them an entertainment of a
different nature, at the expense of the
individual by whom he had been so un-
ceremoniously foiled.
“ Really, friend,” said the innkeeper,
“ you are merry.”
“ Really,” replied Robert, with por-
tentous gravity, “ I am not merry.”
“ At least, I see you love a joke.”
“ It is not so; for a joke is the thing
which I hate. I aim but at speaking
the plain truth. You will not find me
one of those who use harsh words, and
then say they have no meaning.”
14 THE WITCH-FINDER.
“ When he accused you of intending
to steal the horse corn,” said the butcher,
“ he meant you no wrong.”
“ None in the world;” said Robert,
not in the slightest degree affected by
the waggish sneer which accompanied
the butcher's speech. “ I spoke but
what I thought.”
The worthy host began to suspect that
he had little to gain from confining the
conversation to this topic.; and anxious
to try his fortune with another, he ge-
nerously forgot all that was personally
offensive, to make new enquiries. He
accordingly began : –
“ And pray, Mr. Robert, what is your
office ? for you don't seem like a com-
mon servant.” -
“ So my master says, and he does not
use to call me his serving man.”
“ And what then may he call you?"
“ He names me his interpreter.”
THE WITCHI - FINDER. 15
“ His interpreter !” exclaimed the
questioner, with surprise. – “ O! I sup-
pose you understand many languages.”
“ Not so; I can only speak English.”
“Why, how then can you be an inter-
preter, I should like to know ?”
“ Should you indeed ! Well then I am
content to indulge you. My master,
who to say truth is somewhat hasty, at
least he is less patient than I am, cannot
endure, when I have to report to him
what others say, that I should go over
the same form of words which they have
used, repeating every unmeaning ex-
pression which has been uttered, there-
fore he bids me interpret and give him
in briefthe substance of what has been
said, and to tell at once what the parties
mean.”
“ How! I do not understand.”
“ Then, to assist the infirmity of your
16 THE WITCH-FIN DER.
comprehension, I will give an example.
My master will probably soon ask what
has chanced since we arrived here, and
I shall describe our conversation.”
“And what shall you say of it?"
“The simple truth; thus, * The ill-fa-
voured knave below;' that you observe
is shorter than saying “ Peter Plunder, the
fellow who holds the mean hut in which
we now rest –* *
“Why, so it is; but it is also –”
“No compliments, if you please ; you
asked a question, take your answer. “The
ill-favoured knave below,' Ishall tell my
master, seeing two persons of decent ap-
pearance and deportment within his walls,
has been trying to draw me into convers-
ation in order to “ suck my brains, and
get out your honour's secrets.”
The landlord was here somewhat dis-
concerted at finding that his former
THE WITCH-FINDER- 17
speech had been heard. In his confusion
he stammered out an unconnected ex-
postulatory enquiry.
“ Why sure – you will not say so –
if you do, what – what will your master
think ? – what will he think ?” -
“ Think! why I suppose he will agree
with me in thinking that you suppose him
to be a cut-throat, and me no better;
and are only considering whether or not
you can find a way to hang us both, that
you may pocket the blood-money for
swearing away our lives.” ^
This speech, which, from any lips but
those of Robert, would have seemed ut-
tered in the spirit of careless raillery, was
delivered by him with a calm, steadfast
look, and quiet reasoningtone, which in-
dicated no disposition to be jocose or in-
solent. The speaker was, in fact, so
much in the habit of saying things which
were not calculated to please the hearers
18 THE WITCH-FINDER,
ofthem, and it was to him so completely
a matter of indifference whether they
gave offence or not, that he could pro-
nounce the most formidable censure, with-
out having recourse to that preparatory
fierceness oflook, which is commonly the
precursor of what are called hard words.
The effect produced in this instance was
the greater from this circumstance; for
the person to whom they were addressed
could scarcely believe his own ears when
they were greeted with such sounds as
had assailed them, from one whose man-
ner was as perfectly composed as if he
had onlybeen making enquiry after health,
or bidding good morrow. Indignation
was about to burst through embarrass-
ment, when a loud and deafening shout
close to the house, completely drowned
the few words which at that moment
were too near the end of his tongue to be
repressed, and prevented him from pro-
THE WITCH-FINDER. 19
ceeding with the oration thus commenced.
This surprise was increased not a little
when a cow, with part of a man's attire
(that part which the graceful phraseology
of our own times denominates small-
clothes, or inexpressibles,) over her horns
and eyes, entered the yard. A crowd of
followers rained blows on the poor animal,
from the knobbed sticks with which they
were armed. Thus tortured, the cow
bounded first in one direction and then
in another, vainly endeavouring to escape
from those behind. Some of these ex-
ertions brought her rather rudely in
contact with the wondering host, who
immediately made his lowest bow, and
took his place on the ground. Thence,
more frightened than hurt, he was lifted
into the house; and just then, the per-
secutors of the cow were called off in
an authoritative tone, by a middle-aged
20 THE WITCH-FINDER.
man, who entered the yard foaming
with rage, covered with perspiration, and
exhibiting, in his actions, the wildness of
a bedlamite.
THE witch-FINDER. 21
CHAP. II.
I have some wounds upon me, and they smart
To hear themselves remembered.
SHAKsPEARE.
“ THE fun,” as it is vulgarly called, of
inflicting torture on a noble and unoffend-
ing animal, had such attraction for the
rabble crew who were occupied in the
way described in the last chapter, that
they did not pay instant attention to the
calls made on them to desist. But the
repeated shouts, or, rather, screams of the
person who had interfered in behalf of
the victim, at length produced the wished-
for effect, and the cow was left unmo-
lested in a corner of the yard, to which
she had retreated from their violence.
The blows ceased before the noise which

22 THE WITCH-FINDER.
accompanied the advance of the party;
and several reproachful addresses be-
stowed on them, were lost in the tumult
which prevailed.
“ Fools, fools!” the proprietor of the
cow was at length heard to say, after
many vain attempts to convey the same
epithets to the assembly; “what in the
mame of the devil are you all at? Whose
knavery is this? Speak, you villains, who
set you on ? Tell me the name of the
miscreamt.”
“ An it please you, Master Thorpe,”
cried one of the rustics, and would have
proceeded further if permitted by the
party he addressed, who thus interrupted
him, –
“Tell me the name, sirrah, and not
another syllable.” + »
“ I was going to tell you,–”
“You were going to tell me what?"
cried Thorpe impetuously, and in a state

THE wITCH-FINDER. 23
of excitation which made it impossible
for him to wait for the information he
demanded. K.
“Why, sir, I was going to say, that we
were not set on by nobody but –”
“ By nobody but whom?" he voci-
ferated; again interrupting the man at
the very moment which might have given
the answer he wanted to hear. “ Tell me
this instant.”
“ By nobody, sir, but you.”
“ By nobody but me, villain ? Did I
set you on ?" AC
“Yes, sir, if you please; you know you
did your own self.”
* It’s false.”
“ No, sir, don’t you say that; because
didn't you say the night before last that
we must find out who had bewitched the
kine P”
“ Well, and what then ?”
“ And then, Master Thorpe, you know


L4 THE WITCH-FINDER-
you said that the great witch-catcher had
told you as how we must put a pair of
breeches on a cow’s horns, and paid me
to bring a pair of Dick's old leathers.”
“ Well, fellow.”
“And then you said we must hunt the
cow out of the pasture, and she would
run full smack to the witch's house.”
“ Well, fool, but when, – when did I
tell you this was to be done? When,
when, I say ?”
* You said this week.”
“ But not on a Thursday.”
“ I did not know anything against it;
so because things were now a little out of
the way, I told the people to help me to
do it.”
“ My God!” exclaimed Thorpe, speak-
ing to himself, “ what an unfortunate
hing it is to be surrounded by ignorant
people! Who but a set of unreflecting
wretches like these could for a moment



THE WITCH-FINDER. 25
have thought of doing such a thing, of
expecting a cow to run to the dwelling
of a witch on a Thursday!” «
While thus expressing himself he look-
ed disdainfully round on those who had
offended him; but the heat of his rage
beginning to subside, he was sufficiently
himself to observe the stiff awkward bow
of recognition which seemed aimed at
him by one of the group, whose appear-
ance rather favourably distinguished him
from those with whom he was mingled.
It was Robert, who thus noticed one
whom he had known as the friend of his
maSter. -
Thorpe eyed him first indifferently,
then curiously, and finally, with interest-
“ Robert,” he exclaimed, “ how is it...
you are here?"
“Why, I don't know,” Robert answer-
ed, “ except that my master chose to
come, and I had not time to get out of
VOL. I. C



26 THE WITCH-FINDER.
the way of you and the other mad thing,
the cow.” «.
“ Of me and the cow!” echoed Thorpe,
with a slight indication of returning
anger. “ I see you have not improved in
manners, since you are pleased to make
no distinction between me and the cow.”
“ Oh! but I would have made a dis-
y
tinction,” cried Robert, as if willing to
repair the error into which he had fallen,
“ if I had had time, for I have nothing
to say against the poor animal.”
Soothed by the first part of the sen-
tence, Thorpe commenged an explan--
atory speech, which saved him from hear-
ing the end of it.
“A business which I have much at
heart, has been altogether marred by
s
these dolts. It was my intention –this
I wish mentioned to your master,– but
stay, he will perhaps afford me an oppor-
tunity of telling him myself Say there-

THE WITCH-FINDER. 27
fore, that I would fain speak with him,
merely reporting what you yourself have
seen of me and these fellows, informing
him –”
“ Am I to tell that they are all fools,
and that you are stark mad?” Robert
asked, endeavouring to anticipate the
substance of what Thorpe wished him to
carry to his employer.
“ Fellow,” said Thorpe, “ a cane laid
on with a vigorous hand about that
knave's cloak would teach your saucy
tongue more respect.”
“ Truly, Master Thorpe,” Robert re-
joined, “ I meditated no disrespect; but
since you desired me to report what I
had seen, I only wished to know if you
would indeed like me to do so.”
“Then say to your master this, and no
more; that I am here, and covet speech
with him.” -
“If such be your pleasure, come up to

C 2
28 THE WITCH-FINDER.
me,” cried Challoner, from the casement
which he had again opened; for the un-
usual tumult had even interrupted his re-
veries, and having glanced at the crowd
below, the appearance of his old friend
Thorpe had made him participate in the
general surprise. He had not with-
drawn from the window when the con-
versation between thatperson and Robert
reached the point to which it has been
brought in the narrative. -
Thorpe forthwith accepted the invita-
tion, and repaired to the chamber occu-
pied by Challoner. The crowd dis-
persed, a portion of them conducting
the animal which they had been torment-
ing, to the place whence it had been
brought, divested of the garment which
it had preposterously been made to wear.
“ I had feared,” said Thorpe, “ that
I should not see you when I found you
had sent to Redburn so abruptly for
The witch-FINDER. 29
the flower. Why, when so near, came
you not to visit an old friend?"
“ Must I repeat the reasons I have
heretofore given ? Is it needful that I
should again tell, that it is not lack
of friendship which causes my absence ?
But I cannot go where Albert is. Even
now I dare not trust myself in his pre-
sence. I, however, learn with satisfac-
tion, that he is well, and that he is
beloved.”
“ A finer youth never trod the earth:
but he is most inquisitive about you. I
have made him understand the many ob-
ligations he owes to your benevolence,
concealing your real name. This has
awakened in him an ardent spirit of gra-
titude and of impatience to see and to
thank his kind preserver." I
“It may not be. Though I some-
times am tempted, yet I dare not see
him.” # -

c 3
30 THE wITcH-FINDER.
“ I cannot choose but marvel,” said
Thorpe, “ at your conduct. You might
see him, and yet be as securely pro-
tected against any recognition on his
part, as though you were a thousand
miles asunder.” -
“This do I know,” said Challoner; “ I
have no dread of his being able to recog-
nise me, but I–I,” he added, with em-
phasis, sighing deeply while he spoke,
“ I should not fail to recognise him."
“ And wherefore should you object to
that, seeing you are so largely interested
in his fate, that you have protected him
from infancy, and even avowed it to be
your intention to secure him an inde-
pendence ?“ -
“ My reason, if, indeed, reason have
any connection with the course of my
thoughts, I cannot explain, without go-
ing into horrid particulars – without re-
curring to circumstances so appalling,
THE WITCH-FINDER. 31
that many as are the years which have
elapsed since they were first deplored, I
still shudder torecall them."
Thorpelookedsteadfastly on his friend,
and paused some moments before he
spoke. He at length said, “You have
thus mysteriously expressed yourself be-
fore. Though you make me fear to
press for a disclosure, I cannot but de-
sire it.” sº
“ Nor do I blame you. It may well
move curiosity to see a man act as I have
acted. You, I conclude, have some
right to know why I am what you have
seen me. Time has given me more firm-
ness than I once possessed; and if op-
portunity favoured, I would not refuse
to satisfy you.” LH
Thorpe advised that he should seize
that moment to afford the promised ex-
planation. When Challoner objected to
the time and place, he was reminded how
C 4
32 THE WITCH-FINDER.
few the moments had been within the
last ten years in which they could freely
converse, and that where they now found
themselves they were as well defended
against impertinent curiosity, as they
could be in a private residence. To the
latter however Thorpe never ceased to
invite him. On other matters Chal-
loner readily conversed, and appeared
to enjoy the society of his old friend;
but from the one point to which Thorpe
desired to lead him, he invariably
started, when the enquirer believed all
hisscruples were at an end. But as they
went over the scenes of earlier days,
the reluctance of Challoner abated; and
at length, prepared by the various topics
which had been accidentally started, he
yielded to the importunities of Thorpe.
After a pause, to arrange the narrative
on which he was about to enter, he
began.
THE WITCH-FINDER. 33
“As my thought travels through the
recollection of the past, my burning
brain glows with unwonted fires, and
a confusion rises in my mind which
threatens to render unintelligible the ef-
fort which I am disposed to make. Often
have I resolved on confiding to you the
motives by which I am actuated; but I
know not even now whether I shall be
able to execute my purpose.”
“ A few moments of reflection will,
perhaps, assist you.”
“ No, reflection will distract. I must
hurry forward, and let memory pour
forth her burden in unstudied language.
Thus it was. – Blest with, I should ra-
ther Say possessed of, ample means, it
was my fortune in youth to behold a
female whom I will not attempt to de-
scribe; for no description could do jus-
tice to the harmony of her countenance,
C 5

34 THE WITCH- FINDER.
or the symmetry of her form. Oh, that
her mind had been worthy of them ! That
it was worthy of them Ifondly believed;
nor was the belief rashly adopted. I
watched her actions with a lover’s jea-
lousy, where my presence could not be
suspected. I consulted those who knew
her best, and who could have no in-
terest in deceiving me; and from all I
could observe, from all I could learn,
I was led to the conviction that Emma
was a paragon of virtue, as she un-
doubtedly was a model of beauty. This
is a very common-place statement. That
a woman should be beautiful, seem vir-
tuous, and prove frail, will perhaps ap-
pear to you nothing out of the ordinary
course of things. I avowed the passion
which she hadinspired. She modestly re-
ceded from my advances, but eventually
it was my lot–I once had said my bliss-
THE WITCH-FIN DER. 35
ful lot–to have my love returned; and
Emma regarded me as her future hus-
band.
“ It was in Ireland, of which country
Emma was a native, that I first saw my
beautiful and interesting mistress. The
death of a relation, which made a con-
siderable addition to my wealth, called
for my presence in England. In conse-
quence of this, our nuptials were de-
ferred. I became involved in a maze of
legal proceedings, and expecting from
day to day to extricate myself, was very
unexpectedly detained more than a year,
before the business was arranged. Then
triumphant over the adversaries with
whom I had had to contend, I gaily re-
turned to claim my affianced bride.
“ Emma had a female cousin almost as
beautiful as herself. She came to Eng-
land while I was here, and brought me
letters from her relation filled with as-
c 6
36 THE wITCH-FINDER.
#
surances of unchangeable affection. Such
I continued to receive during the remain-
der of my stay. My visits to her cousin
were frequent. I delighted to hear her
tell of the generous warmth with which
Emma had spoken of me in my absence.
But after a time she ceased to remind me
of that which had charmed me. I judged
that she grew weary of the subject from
repetition. But before her return to the
sister kingdom, which preceded mine by
a month, she threw out some ambiguous
hints on the fickleness of her relation.
These I little heeded, for the communi-
cations which reached me direct from
Emma, assured me of her constancy, and
I was all impatience to claim my fair
prize.
“ I arrived in the barony of Munterlong,
in the county of Tyrone, towards the
close of October, 1641. I approached
the dwelling in which I believed Emma
THE WITCH-FINDER. 37
to repose, lovely and innocent as when I
last beheld her. Her relation, whom I
have mentioned as having been in Eng-
land, received me as I entered. Her
manner was disordered – she started at
recognising me, and trembled violently
while her hand was clasped in mine. I
asked for Emma; she was silent. Alarmed,
I demanded to know if she were ill – if
dead? My fears were abated to hear
that she was in good health.
“ “Tell me, I demanded, “ tell me, what
then has occurred ?”
“She still trembled, but made no reply.
I could not bear this torturing delay, and
impetuously rose to seek for the explan-
ation which was thus withheld.
““ Madman, hold!’ exclaimed Sophia,
(I am not sure that I named her before,)
with an effort which surprised me; and she
resolutely interposed her slender form be-
tween me and the door, at the same time
38 THE WITCH-FINDER.
extending her arms to prevent my going
forth.
““ What would you?" she demanded,
in a tone which combined tenderness
with extreme apprehension.
“ * I would terminate this torturing sus-
pense, I replied. Mºº
““ Alas!' she answered with a sigh, “it
is my grief to know that it cannot long
be protracted. While in England, you
may remember I spoke of the fickleness
of my relation.”
““ I remember it, but –”
“ “But you thought I was in error,” said
Sophia. “ It was not so. I wished but to
prepare you for that which could not be
concealedon your return.” v
“ Speechless and powerless I glared
wildly on the speaker, while she proceed-
ed with the brief but dreadful narrative
which destroyed my peace. The sub-
stance of it was this, that Emma, alike
THE WITCH-FINDER. 39
forgetful of her lover and her fame, had
become a mother.
“I will not dwell upon the excruciating
tortures which I endured, while these
miserable tidings were communicated.
But suddenly it occurred to me, that pos-
sibly the statement was untrue. It was a
strange idea, and I retained just reflection
enough to be sensible of it at the time. I
however thought that nothing short of
positive proof ought to convince me that
Emma was really what she had been
described to be, and as soon as I could
give utterance to my thoughts, I express-
ed this feeling. It was applauded by my
informant. .
“* You act,” said she, “like the gener-
ous lover you have ever been. She is at
present in this house, and a few moments
will give you the mournful satisfaction
you require. You will find her now with
her babe. But stay – toyou it can hardly

40 THE WITCH-FINDER.
be expected that she will acknowledge
her real situation."
““ Nay, may,' I replied, “ I will not
assume that Emma is degraded on the
report of any created being.”
““ She will speak the truth to you,'
Sophia answered, “provided she knows
you not. Here is a mask. Wear it. Pre-
sent yourself before her, and demand of
her authoritatively if the child which you
will find in her arms be hers. Her an-
swer will be sufficient.”
“To this suggestion, a happy one I
deemed it, I offered no objection. The
mask which so opportunely presented it-
self, I immediately used, and hastened
to the chamber in which Emma rested.
As I approached, I heard a voice which I
instantly knew to be hers, fondly soothing
an infant. Frantic with grief and indig-
nation, I could not seek for the fastening
of the door, but burst it open and stood
before her.
THE WITCH-FINDER. 41
“She shrieked at my sudden intrusion
–I saw an infant clasped in her arms,
while the mother though much alarmed,
still retained all that dazzling beauty
which in other moments I had loved to
contemplate as that which was to con-
summate my happiness. So young – so
fair – so angelic was her appearance, that
even then I doubted; but I recalled the
part which I had to act, and sternly
enquired –
*** Whose child is that?”
“ Emma hesitated. “It is –it is–'
she said, and her tongue withheld further
speech.
“* It cannot be yours!” I exclaimed in
the same tone which I had before adopted,
and I offered to advance.
““ It is mine – it is mine,” was her an-
swer. Oh never, while life still lingers
in this fading frame, shall I forget the
matchlesshorror of that moment! I could

42 THE wITCH-FINDER.
think of concealment no longer. The
mask fell from my face, and I was recog-
nised. Emma instantly sprang to-
wards me with open arms, while mad
exultation flashed in her eyes as she
addressed me.
““ Challoner – my Challoner! God be
praised that you are come. Now I have
no more to dread.“
“The unhappy one seemed actually
to rejoice that her falsehood had been
made known.
“ * Lost, wretched Emma !” were the
only words which I could utter while I
receded from her. She followed not.
The sense of degradation seemed in that
moment to overcome her, and before I
could attempt to assist her, she sunk on
the floor, endeavouring as she fell, with
maternal tenderness, to save her infant
from the shock. -
“With humane care Sophia few to the
THE WITCH-FINDER. 43
succour of her relation. I had lifted Em-
ma into a chair, when the countenance
of the infant attracted my notice. The
resemblance of its mother, which I
traced, was more than I could endure.
I left the apartment, rushed out of the
house, and wandered, dark as it was, I
knew not, cared not whither, raving like
a maniac, or rather having become one.
“You cannot have forgotten the events
written in characters of blood, which
connect themselves with the history of
the period to which I now refer. Mis-
government had produced disaffection,–
disaffection led to increased severity, and
increased severity had goaded the suf-
ferers to madness; under the influence
of which they perpetrated outrages of
the most appalling character, which I
will not recall, and which humanity
would veil for ever.
“ Early in the morning which suc-
44 THE WITCH-FINDER.
ceeded that miserable night, it was my
lot to cross a plain on which some
of the victims to the blind rage ex-
cited, had breathed their last. I looked
on their mangled remains with feelings
of horror and of commiseration, which
were strangely mingled with those of
envy. I envied the sufferers the repose
of death, while I shuddered for the
dreadful guilt which had given them that
repose. Turning from the awful spec-
tacle, I was leaving the spot, when I
thought I heard the cry of an infant.
The sound was repeated. At a short dis-
tance I saw a child feebly struggling by
the side of its lifeless parent. What were
my feelings when I perceived that the
babe was the same which I had found in
Emma's arms, and when, though fright-
fully disfigured and altered by death, I
distinguished in the features of the
corpse those of Emma herself! I first
THE WITCH-FINDER. 45
fled in dismay, and resolved that the
evidence of her shame should perish with
her form. But Pity bade me return to
save the infant. Pity spoke a second
time, and told me that true compassion
would leave it to its fate, rather than
preserve it to be exposed to misery in
mature life, like that which I at that
moment endured, and again I withdrew.
Further reflection made me once more
return. To leave the guiltless Offspring
of a dead mother miserably to languish,
seemed an act of vengeance ferocious
and unmanly. I took the child in my
arms, and with much difficulty succeeded
in conveying him safely to Dublin,
whence I brought him to England.
“There was another act of weakness
which I committed at the same time, but
that was unimportant, and I shall not
further weary you by repeating it now.
I have stated that which on reflection
46 THE WITCH-FINDER.
will I think, appear a sufficient explan-
ation of my conduct. I know not to what
madness I might be wrought if I suffered
myself to know this youth, whom during
my absence, on account of the civil wars,
I confided to your care. To have before
me the living semblance of Emma's fea-
tures, at once the evidence and the off
spring of that frailty which I must ever
deplore, would, perhaps, tempt me to
revenge on the innocent the guilt so
awfully expiated in his mother's death,
and induce me to abandon the resolution
I have made to support the life which
(perhaps it was an act of criminal folly)
I formerly preserved.”
“ For that," said Thorpe, “ I think
you need have no misgivings. To know
Albert, such as he has become, must
yield joy, and satisfy you that your hu-
manity was not exerted in vain.”
“ If the youth be such as you paint
THE WITCH-FINDER. 47
him, I shall, perhaps, still regret that to
me he will owe the misery which is pro-
bably in store for him; but in any case
I cannot consent to see him. My phi-
losophy, ay, and my reason too, are
soon shaken; so press me not to go to
your house.” «.
“ But Albert is now in London. You
may therefore come and visit ihy dame.
Trust me, she will be joyed to see you
after so long am absence; and I in my
turn have much to tell which will sur-
prise.”
The look and tone of Thorpe were
such as indicated that he had something
of deep interest to communicate, and
recalling with some degree of curiosity
the manner in which he had presented
himself in the Inn-yard, Challoner con-
sented, on being again assured that
Albert was not at his home, to pass one
night under his roof.
- 48 THE WITCH-FINDER.
CHAP. III.
These flowers, which are of no further use than to or-
nament gardens, which are exceeded in beauty by
many other plants, and whose duration is short and
very precarious, became in the middle of the seventeenth
century the object of a trade such as is not to be met
with in the history of commerce, and by which their
price rose above that of the most precious metals.
BEcKMANN's History of Inventions.
A short time sufficed to effect the pro-
posed adjournment from St. Alban’s to
Redburn. Challoner received the wel-
comes, and briefly answered the enqui-
ries of Mrs. Thorpe, and partook, though
but sparingly, of the hospitable fare set
before him.
Mrs. Thorpe was a good housewife,
and her arrangements were so well
made for the accommodation of her
family and guests, that Challoner,
though but little accustomed to indulge
THE WITCH-FINDER. 49
in comment on such matters, noticed
them with satisfaction, but he thought a
compliment on the subject too common-
place to be worth uttering.
Persons who are conscious of any de-
ficiency or falling off are very apt to
suppose that what they feel rather tender
about, attracts the eye of every one.
Such was the case with Mr. Thorpe, who,
when Challoner looked round with ap-
probation, suspected it was remarked that
his house was different, and in the wrong
way from what it had once been.
* Alas! Master Challoner,” said he,
“ I clearly perceive that you discern my
affairs are no longer as they were, when
you formerly visited me."
“ Really, it seems to me that every
thing is in better taste than formerly ;–
that if there is less splendour, there is
more comfort; and men at our time of
life have lived to but little purpose if
VOL.- I- D
50 THE WITCH-FINDER.
they cannot enjoy themselves without
ostentation.”
“This I have tried to teach myself and
I believe I should have succeeded, had
not hell itself been leagued against me.”
Challoner seemed to disapprove of the
warmth of Thorpe. “You are not choice
in your language,” said he; “ though
no puritan, I do not admire the free and
familiar likening of objects or persons to
that which is not of earth.”
Thorpe answered with great solemnity,
“ It is not my practice to do the thing
which you justly reprehend. I speak not
in tropes, nor do Iidly use words of awful
import. What I have said is severely
true. With bitterness of soul I repeat it,
I am the victim of a horrid confederacy
with hell.”
Challoner turned his enquiring eye on
Thorpe, with astonishment which nolan-
guage can embody. He scrutinised the
THE WITCH-FINDER. 51
face of his friend as if he expected to
find in its expression some evidence of
insanity.
“You doubt the truth of my assertion,"
said Thorpe, “ and perhaps you are one
of those who incline to deny that prac-
fices like those which have all but de-
stroyed me are common. Unhappily, I
have proofs but too convincing of their
deadly power; and to their frequent oc-
currence numbers, even in this neigh-
bourhoood, can testify.”
“ I do not know that I under-
stand you,” said Challoner. “ But you
seem to speak of things respecting
which I can hardly say I doubt, so
strongly does my scepticism urge me to
deny.”
“Check the presumptuous movement
in your bosom, at least till you have
heard some particulars of my mournful
story. These shall be yoursin brief You
D 2
52 THE WITCH-F IN DER .
remember me originally a bookseller in a
pretty way in Little Britain. Anon you
sawmebecome agallant merchant, holding
a noble house, with a fair garden, opposite
the Three Daggers, in Fleet-street, with
servants and horses at my command.”
“True; and it surprised me as much
as it pleasured me to witness so mighty a
change in your circumstances on a
sudden.”
“This shall be explained. It was in
the year of our salvation one thousand
and six hundred thirty and six, that the
trade in tulips began.”
“ I remember that strange mania.”
“ I,” said Thorpe, “was one of those
who engaged in it, and for a season, with
marvellous success. Hence my afflu-
ence. I nothing doubted but it would
continue. Without seeing the tulips I
bought, Isold them again with advantage
to others, who, speculating on a variation
f
THE WITCH-FINIDER. 58
in their value, purposed doing the same.
I prospered for a time, when it was my
lot to experience some miscarriages. On
one occasion I had purchased ten Vice-
roys, on terms so favourable that all my
friends envied my good fortune, and pre-
dicted that I should gain much wealth.
I had given for them but nine hundred
pounds.”
“ But nine hundred pounds!” cried
Challoner. “ Is it possible that you could
be so insane as to give such a sum forten
miserable tulips?”
“ Understand me aright. It was not
to possess the flowers themselves that I
gave this money, but merely to have
the opportunity of disposing of them as
merchandise.”
“ Is it then possible that paying a price
so enormously, so ridiculously high, you
could look to gain by them?" -.
“ Nay, the very same things had been

D 3
54 THE WITCH-FINDER.
sold in the Low Countries, but a short time
before, at the rate of three thousand
florins per root; their average weight
being not more than three hundred and
sixty perits. Now mine were to weigh,
one with another, not less than three
hundred and ninety perits. I calculated
on getting a larger price than that which
Ihave named; when suddenly news came
that at Rotterdam a supply of Viceroys
had been received, superior to mine, which
had been publicly soldat so low a prie
as eighteen hundred florins each. Their
value instantly declined in England, and
mine were disposed of at a loss.”
“ And no great wonder, methinks. Is
this one of the proofs of the hellish con-
federacy which you have mentioned ?”
“You shall hear.–After this disap-
pointment, it struck me that the merchant
who really possessed the roots which were
most in request had a great advantage
- - - - -
“ -
<L
- - -
#.
THE WITCH-FINDERs 55
over other speculators. Full of this idea,
I passed over to the Continent, visited
all the tulip marts to learn the current
prices, and rich in information of this
sort, arrived at Vienna, just at the mo-
ment when four Semper Augustuses and
seven Admiral Liefkens, the property of
a Dutch trader who had deceased, were
offered for sale by his creditors, who were
ignorant of the great value of this pro-
perty. For eighteen thousand florins, I
got the whole of them.”
“ Indeed!” exclaimed Challoner, with
new surprise; “you, who knew the true
value of these flowers, got them from the
ignorant people who had them to sell, on
paying only eighteen thousand florins.
What a bargain!”
“ It was an immense piece of good
fortune; so every one thought; and Iover-
joyed, brought my prize to England. I
prudently concealed, for a time, the
D 4.
56 THE WITCH-FINDER.
extent of my wealth, and only exhibited
one Semper Augustus for sale. It was
a native of Syria, had been carried to
Constantinople, and there purchased by
the Dutchman who conveyed it to Vien-
na. A short time before, such was the
rarity of the Semper Augustus, that a
single root was sold at Amsterdam for
four thousand six hundred florins, a car.
riage, and a pair of grey horses, with
harness complete. Mine was a perfect
beauty. Its leaves delicately varied;
its petals pale and exquisitely formed,
commanded universal admiration. It,
however, sold but for forty pounds.”
“ Really! Well, that was no small
profit. But could you part with the rest
of your stock in the same manner ?”
“ I sold the others at the same rate.
But mark what followed. The price rapid-
ly declined, and when I should have
received the money for which they had
THE WITCH-FINDER. 57
been sold, the purchasers returned me
the flowers, paying only the difference
between what I had sold them for,
and what they were, at the time of
their being returned, considered to be
Worth.” -
“That could not hurt you, as they
were still saleable, for the remainder of
what you had expected would be paid
for them.”
“ But none wished actually to possess
the roots, so that I could only part with
them at a great disadvantage. This I
could not make up my mind to en-
counter. Who, for instance, would have
thought of selling a Semper Augustus
for twenty pounds, or an Admiral for
eighteen?” z
“ Indeed I cannot say. I do not think
I should have had any idea of doing so.“
“ Nor could I reconcile myself to it,”
said Thorpe; “ I therefore determined to
D 5
58 THE WITCH- F IN DER.
keep them myself till a scarcity should
occur, when I doubted not of getting
what would console me for all the time
and care I had bestowed. I had kept
them for three years, when two of each
sort died in the same season. I was then
reminded that a female who wore a mask,
supposed to be coming from the play
at Blackfriars, had, a short time before,
looked in upon my garden, and on hear-
ing me speak of their value, she used
these words, “ Presently they will not be
worth sixpence.” ”
“ And what importance can you attach
to that?”
“ I thought lightly of it. This was in
the year forty. It was about two years
afterwards that you requested me to take
charge of the education of Albert,
One day when I chanced to be walking
with him in the garden, a labourer
pointed to a somewhat fantastically at-
THE WITCH-FIN DER. 59
tired female, whom he said he verily be-
lieved was the same, judging from her
figure, for he saw not her face before, that
had withered my tulips.”
“ How know you that she withered
them ?”
“ Circumstances prove it ; for within
the brief space of six months from that
day, the day on which I saw her, all the
others were destroyed. Some well-mean-
ing people desirous of tranquillising my
mind, would fain have persuaded me,
that they had been thrown down by the
cats, and two Albert was said to have
torn up by the roots; but from the man-
ner in which they withered, all as it were
together, and from the look which the
female gave when she next crossed my
way, I have no doubt that they were
blasted by witchcraft.” - - - - - - >
“ By witchcraft!” echoed Challoner,
with an incredulous smile. “ Because a
D 6 «
60 THE WITCH-FINDER.
few tulip roots died in your garden, do
you suppose the mischief must have been
caused by witchcraft?"
“ Not on that account alone, though
I confess that circumstance awoke SuS-
picion. Hear the rest of my tale. Much
impoverished by the loss I had sustained,
and worn out by the harassing specula-
tions (speculations similar in object and
misfortune to those just described) in
which I had been engaged for several
years, I determined on seeking humble
comfort by retiring to a cottage in the
country. I settled here in Hertfordshire,
and became a farmer. Strange to tell, in
the first three years my crops all failed.”
“ That was unfortunate.”
“ I thought so, and that was all I
thought about it; when one day I met,
and within fifty yards of a field of corn
which had just been cut, the same female
I have mentioned. Her gaze was fixed
THE WITCH-FINDER. 61
on mine as it had formerly been; and
though she spoke not, I could see in her
eye a glance of exultation that my corn
had been marred by her infernal arts
as my tulips had been before.”
“ It was certainly singular that chance
should have conducted her steps in the
same direction which yours had taken.”
“ If you hold that to be extraordinary,
what will you say when I add that ten
years afterwards I met her nearly two
hundred miles distant from this spot?”
“ The coincidence was remarkable.
Where did you again encounter her?"
“ At York. Thither had Isent Albert
with my own son for education, and just
before I took them through the Nether-
lands and France, respecting which you
were informed by letter, I went to the
school, and there did I see the witch
again.”
“You saw this same woman ?”
62 THE WITCH-FINDER.
“ Nay, what but a witch can she be
who would thus follow the man she de-
signed to injure ? I told you of my ill
Success here at the first, but after awhiie,
hearing perchance that I was resolved to
subject her to all the penalties of law,
she fled. Then my crops fared as well,
aye better, than those of my neighbours,
even to the year when I met the horrid
hag again at York. That season the
return was scanty, but the very next year
her malice began to show itself in all its
former virulence. Much of the hay rot-
ted on the ground by wet; and one
stack when I thought it safe in the yard
took fire, no mortal in the place could tell
how; while the wheat became black in
the ear before it had been touched by
the sickle.”
“ But such varieties of seasons, and
such miscarriages as you deplore, may
arise from natural causes, and prove not
THE WITCH-FINDER. 63
that you are beset with witches, of whose
very existence I confess myself much in
doubt.”
“This is strange, but Albert is just
the same. I know that the seasons may
be expected to vary, and that thence no
rash judgment ought to be drawn to the
injury of any one; but allow me to re-
mark the repeated failures which I have
known ever follow the destroying pre-
sence of the wretch I have described,
amount to something more than what
could be expected from chance, in the
ordinary course of events.”
“ But for events over which no mortal
can have control, as it appears to me, you
ought to be slow to bring forward a
charge against a fellow-creature, which,
if credited, would probably affect her
Iife.”
“ If such wretches had twenty lives,”
cried Mrs. Thorpe, who till now had
64 THE WITCH-FINDER,
taken no part in the conversation,“ they
ought to lose them all.”
“I ought to have told you,” said
Thorpe, “ that no sooner had I lately
returned to my own home, than the
witch by her diabolical art found it
out, and came here again, with another
or two of the same sort. I knew what
would follow. The crops are again fail-
ing; a cow died last week, and all my
swine went mad the day before yester-
day, so that I was obliged to have them
killed and buried."
“This was told to me when I asked
after your welfare, as I passed through
this morning; but your butcher, who
was by at the time, laughed heartily at
the tale, and said your swine had been
suffered to feed on the grouts or bottoms
of your ale, which had somewhat dis-
ordered them, and led you to believe
h
THE WITCH-FINDER- 65
that they were mad, when the truth was
they were intoxicated.”
“ I know he said the pigs were
drunk, but I understood what was the
matter before I sent for him, and am
quite satisfied that they were bewitched
by that–”
Here Thorpe paused in his speech to
search his mind for some novelty in the
way of reprobation, having exhausted the
varieties of witch, wretch, and hag.
“That devil incarnate, I was going
to say, God forgive me,” cried Mrs.
Thorpe, with an elevation of tone which
seemed to exult in the energetic finish,
thus supplied to her husband’s speech,
“ for I am sure she is no better, and if I
had my will she should not continue her
pranks long.”
“ It is quite natural Madam for you
to feel indignant, considering yourself to
be so much aggrieved.”
66 THE WITCH-FINDER.
“O, no, by your favour master Chal-
loner,” replied the lady, “ it requires no
consideration.” »
Dame Thorpe having conceived a
great horror for the crime of witchcraft,
judged no punishment could be too
severe for those who were guilty of it;
and with that warmth which ladies
sometimes make the companion of their
likings and dislikings, it appeared to her
that to doubt the guilt of a person ac-
cused would be something like a con-
cession in favour of the crime. Such
being her feeling, the colloquy proceeded
as follows: –
“It may require no consideration,
Madam, to determine the character of
the imputed crime; but much may be
necessary to decide the question whether
the party accused be criminal.”
“ Criminal! is it not criminal to drive
THE WITCH-FINDER. 67
?
people's cattle mad, and to blast their
corn as it grows?”
“ But this, as it appears to me, is only
suspected.”
“ Is it not criminal to bewitch poor
children ?”
“ Undoubtedly Madam; but,–”
“ Is it not criminal in these fiends
to take the newly-buried corpse of an
infant from the consecrated ground in
which its friends desired that it should
rest, to make an ointment to anoint their
own wicked limbs withal, that they may
be the more lightsome to move with ease
on their broomsticks to do the devil's
bidding?"
“I never meant to say one word in
favour of such practices, but what I
would remark is this –”
“ Is it not criminal to get themselves
baptised in the devil's name, allowing
their faces to be marked with the tip of
68 THE WITCH-FINDER-
his tail, and then to go and feast, and
dance, and sing wicked songs at his ugly
suppers?”
“This would be horrible if –”
“ And is it not criminal to carry away
the roofs of people's houses; to knock
down stacks of chimneys, and break all
the windows in a godly man's house ?”
“Unquestionably, if it could be
proved that any human being–”
“And is it not criminal to give suck
to a toad or some other shocking thing,
which the devil sends to be their fami-
liar, as if it were their own lawfully
born offspring ? O the wretches! they
ought to be burned to death by a slow
fire!”
“ But first, Madam, methinks –”
** O, Sir, I would show them no
mercy. You, Mr. Challoner, I have
always known to be a very good man;
but people who live at a distance from
THE WITCH-FINDER. 69
the haunts of these wretches, have no
idea of their horrid doings; and were
you but acquainted with half as much as
I know of them, you would agree with
me, I am sure in thinking that since
they will sell themselves to the devil,
they ought to be sent as quickly as pos-
sible to their master's home.”
Mrs. Thorpe’s eloquence was too
much for Challoner; he saw that in
her zeal to visit the crime she could not
pause to enquire whether an individual
charged with that crime was accused on
sufficient grounds. In her eyes, the mag-
nitude of the sin was enough to cover
all deficiencies of proof, and perceiving
this, he was willing to close the convers-
ation. With that view he now re-
marked,–
“ I cannot contend against you
Madam; when you prove any individual
to have committed the acts you have
70 THE WITCH-FINDER.
enumerated, I shall probably approve
of the punishment which you will inflict.
But beware that you do not pursue the
innocent.”
The lady re-commenced in her former
strain: “ Innocent ! I do not call those
innocent, who engage in such concerns;
are they innocent who –”
Here she had the misfortune to be in-
terrupted by Thorpe, who was eager to
answer what had last fallen from Chal-
loner.
“ I,” said he, “ am as anxious that
none but the really guilty should suffer
as you can be; and you, my old friend,
have a proof of it, in what you have seen
this day. Finding that the evil became
intolerable from the great prevalence of
witchcraft, I determined on making
forthwith the requisite search and en-
quiry for the guilty; and therefore being
resolved not to spare expence in a case
THE WITCH- FINDER. 71
of so much importance, I invited the
renowned witch-finder, Master Matthew
Hopkins, to visit Hertfordshire. He
could not come on the instant, but he
very kindly gave me directions how I
should proceed in his absence to find in
what direction the witch lay. Here is
hisletter.”
Challoner received the paper, and
read the following lines, to which his
attention was particularly directed by
Thorpe. -
“ Put a pair of breeches on a cow's
head, and beate hir out of the pasture
with a good cudgell, upon a Fridaie, and
she will run right to the witche's door,
and strike thereat with hir hornes.”
“ Well”, said Challoner, “ you have
tried this experiment.”
“See you not,” said Thorpe, “ it has
not been done, inasmuch as it has not
been tried on a Friday? On that ac-
72 THE WITCH-FINDER.
count it cannot be held to be tried at all.
This it was that exasperated me against
the boobies who undertook the business
to-day; for stands it not to reason that
that ceremony, which could only be effi-
cacious on a Friday, can be of no avail
if had recourse to earlier in the week?”
“That I cannot doubt, if indeed there
be any ceremony which is only effica-
cious on a Friday. But really friend
Thorpe, I think you are somewhat misled
in this. That wretches may be abandoned
enough to injure Cattle wantonly, and
commit other outrages which are distinct
from ordinary depredations, I can easily
credit; but that any mortal possesses
powers like those which you believe the
party whom you have mentioned to
exercise, seems to me most unlikely.
There have been, I know, individuals who
affected to communicate with the inha-
bitants of another world, but this I be-
THE WITCH-FINDER. 78
lieve was for purposes of fraud, to win
money from the credulous, who would not
otherwise be worked upon.”
“ Andsoyou do notbelievein witches?”
“ Not believe in witches!” echoed Mrs.
Thorpe; “ Not believe in witches!” she
cried, repeating the exclamation with a
stareand tone which surprise, incredulity,
and horror united to furnish and sustain.
“Why, I should as soon hate thought,
Mr. Challoner, to have found that you
had turned atheist. Do we not read even
in Scripture of witches?”
Then man and wifepoured forth a flood
of eloquence, to prove that it was pro-
bable the reality of what they had as-
serted had existence. Their reasoning was
backed by a series of relations of most
unquestionable authority, which, in their
judgment, left no excuse for doubt, and
would have made denial perfectly absurd.
After the sample which Challoner
VOL. I. E
74 THE WITCH-FINDER.
had had of Mrs. Thorpe's powers, he was
not intrepid enough to venture on a for-
mal answer to what she now advanced ;
but without risking their displeasure by
positive contradiction, he took a course
which he had sometimes found very use-
ful in cases where the marvellous had
been roundly asserted.
“You tell me,” said he, “ that all these
strange tales are certainly true, and that
nothing is more common than superna-
tural interference with human affairs.
Allow me to ask, if you yourselfhave ever
seen any of those agents which you de-
scribe the devil to be in the habit of send-
ing to assist mortals who are supposed to
become his willing agents ? Have you,
as they are so constantly abroad, chanced
to see any of them?"
The answer to this, he securely calcu-
lated, would furnish grounds for postpon-
ing at least, the yielding ofimplicit credit
THE WITCH-FINDER. 75
to the wonders which he had listened to,
and he was rather startled when Thorpe
unhesitatingly replied –
“ Assuredly I have. Many of their
horrid familiars have come in my way.
The horse-shoe at the door, it is true,
prevents them from entering my dwell-
ing, but its influence extends no further,
and cannot restrain them from crossing
my path, when I venture abroad. Since
you are so hard to be convinced by my
words, if you can credit the testimony of
your own senses, you may, if you will, see
a witch's familiars this night.”
“ Indeed!”
“ If some hour or two after nightfall
you will accompany me, your doubts will
be set at rest for ever.”
“ I am anxious to reach London with-
OUt delay, and therefore proposed retiring
to bed betimes, that I might be prepared
to journey early in the morning. But
E 2
76 THE wITCH-FINDER.
my curiosity is somewhat moved by your
proposal; and to be resolved on a point so
interesting, I will remain here this night,
if you can rely on the absence of Albert.”
For this Thorpe readily engaged. His
partner much rejoiced that their sceptical
friend was in so fair a way of having that
disbelief, which she could not but regard
as sinful, done away; and conversation on
the various topics which their present si-
tuation and recollections of former days
suggested, made time pass rapidly, till
the abbey clock struck ten, by which
hour, Mr. Thorpe supposed the imps
of darkness would fancy themselvesse-
cure, and be found, in all probability, in
the midst of their nocturnal gambols. He
accordingly proposed that they should
venture forth on their witch, or rather
imp-seeking expedition.
THE wITCH-FINDER. 77
CHAP. IV.
The heavenly Father keep hisbrood
From foul infection of so great a vice.
FAIRFAX.
HavING retraced their steps, and again
reached St. Alban's, they walked in silence
to the end of the northern transept of
the abbey, when Thorpe halted and ad-
dressed Challoner.
“ You, perhaps, think me rash in seek-
ing the horrid creatures which I have
said you may view. I am not certain that
we should be safe, had not a pious and
learned person, lineally descended from
the celebrated traveller Sir John Man-
deville, who was a native of these parts,
communicated to me a most rare and
worthy secret which his great ancestor is
said to have obtained in J erusalem, when
he journeyed thither, as was the custom
E 3
78 THE WITCH - FINDER,
"in the time of his earthly pilgrimage.
The possession of this has hitherto de-
fended my person, which otherwise I
doubt not would have suffered from the
same damnable arts which have so re-
peatedly assailed my property.”
“ And what did this pious person tell ?”
“ He counselled me, whenever my
affairs should call me forth after night-
fall, to carry in my hand a small portion
of dust taken from the grave of Joseph of
Arimathea, which distributed over my
garments should serve as armour, and
effectually repel all assaults from the
emissaries of Satan.” « »
“The secret may be invaluable, but
unless he provided you with a sample of
the earth in question, I know not how
you could profit by it, as you say you
have done.”
“Only by repairing hither,” said
Thorpe. “ The spot on which we now
THE WITCH-FINDER. 79
stand contains the ashes of Joseph, who,
coming to England, repaired to this city,
and contributed to establish the Christian
religion among the ancient Britons.”
“This I never heard before.”
“The fact is of undoubted verity, as
the records of the Monks of Glaston-
bury will prove.”
“ Indeed !” exclaimed Challoner.
“ Really I cannot but marvel at the
change I remark in you. Heretofore I
have heard you stoutly inveigh against the
monks and their records, as parts of a
system of imposture and impiety, which
merited but abhorrence and derision.”
“ Nor have my opinions with respect
to monks and papists undergone any
change. But I am not so bigoted as to
disbelieve my own senses, because what I
see is sanctioned by ancient writings
which are in their keeping. Since Beel-
zebub has oflate made unwonted efforts to
E 4.
80 THE WITCH-FINDER.
ensnare and persecute poor mortals, I
am not amazed that “ HE, whose name
is Wonderful,” has provided adequate
means for the defence of the sufferers;
and if it were permitted for us to reason
on the way in which this might best be ac-
complished, where should we more natu-
rally suppose the means of resisting the
tempter would be found than in the graves
of those departed Christians, who lived
but to oppose the extension of Satan's do-
minion."
“ I cannot speculate on probabilities of
this sort; but let us forward.”
“ First, take a handful of earth from
the grave, as a measure of precaution.”
“ I have a trusty oaken stick in my
hand, which I think will suffice for my
protection.”
Thorpe remonstrated against the im-
prudence, not to say the presumption, of
his companion, in thus refusing the secu-
rity which might be obtained by merely
THE WITCH-FINDER. 81
stooping; but expressed his hope, as they
resumed their march, that what he himself
had taken from the resting-place of
Joseph of Arimathea would save both
from harm. Challoner, as it seemed to
Thorpe, concurred with him in this idea,
as he declared it to be his opinion that the
earth in question was quite as capable of
protecting two as one.
They passed round the western ex-
tremity of the cathedral, and descended
by that path which Challoner and Robert
had traversed towards the ruins of Veru-
lam. They went over the spot where Al-
ban, said to have been an eminent citizen
of that place, was supposed to have re-
ceived Amphibolus, who converted him
to Christianity and qualified him for the
honours of martyrdom, which he eventu-
ally received from the persecuting care
of Dioclesian; and then, having gained a
rather elevated spot, Thorpe an ---- ced,
d E 5 - - -

82 THE WITCH-FINDER.
in a solemn whisper, that they had only a
little field to cross to reach the residence
of the witch. While he spoke he pointed
to a lonely cottage, imperfectly seen
from the darkness of the night, but which
appeared to Challoner situated in the
midst of a woody enclosure.
Ongaining this view ofthe place of their
destination they paused; but at the in-
stance of Thorpe again moved forward.
He enjoined the most perfect silence as
they approached the cottage, though at the
same time he remarked, he had no doubt
that it would prove useless, as the witch
would not fail to be informed by her
familiars that strangers were near. He
was thus speaking in a very low tone,
when a cock was heard to crow.
“There,” said he, still whispering,
“ did I not tell you how it would be?"
“What mean you?” demanded Chal-
THE WITCH-FINDER. 83
“ How!” cried Thorpe-“ heard you
not that cock crow! Nay, since you
heard it not, can anything more distinctly
show that the voice was that of no native
of earth, or why should it be audible to
me and not to you?"
“ I heard it. If I expressed surprise,
it was at your seeming to attach import-
ance to a thing so singularly trifling.”
“Surely you must know that this is
not the time when such sounds could be
heard in the natural course of things. Is
not the cock named the herald of the
morn? yetnow it crows in the darkness of
night.”
“ Though the bird you mention is
commonly, and not inappropriately, called
the herald of the morn, it is no uncom-
mon thing for its voice to be heard at
other seasons. I have often heard it
after night-fall.”
“ But never under ordinary circum-
E 6
84 THE WITCH-FINDER,
stances. It commonly betokens death to
some one in whose vicinity it is heard.”
“ In this instance, then, it may inti-
mate the death of the female you suppose
to be a witch.”
“ I should hope that might be the
case, and that justice was about to over-
take the monster, if I were certain that
it came from a real feathered animal
which belonged not to her.”
“ I never till now heard that pro-
perty in the bird could avert the omen.”
“ Nordoes it commonly; but here the
case is different from any other. Though
exactly like the crowing of a cock, I
am persuaded that this was a decep-
tion; and that, in truth, the sound we
heard was but the voice of one of the
hag's familiars, raised to announce our
coming.”
“ Really,” Challoner remarked, “ if
this said witch is so well provided with
THE WITCH-FINDER, 85
guards and spies, we have not acted
wisely in seeking to take her by sur-
prise.”
“ Nay,” Thorpe replied, “ that I never
expected to do. What I promised was,
that you might see some of her familiars.
I do not believe you will yet be dis-
appointed; and one you have already
heard.”
“That is a doubtful point, even with
you.” VW-
Thorpe motioned to his companion
to be silent. They had moved but a few
paces farther, when a large frog leaped
before them.
“ There, there,” said Thorpe, “now
look,” touching Challoner on the arm,
to direct his attention to the object of
his speech. He then added, in the
phraseology of exultation, but in a voice
which plainly told that in his judgment
86 THE WITCH-FINDER.
the moment was too awful for triumph:
“ Will you believe your own eyes? Have
you a doubt now?”
Challoner calmly desired to know what
was the matter.
“The matter!” exclaimed Thorpe;
“ saw you not that hideous toad ?”
“ I saw what I believe to be a frog,
whose rest we have disturbed.”
“ I can tell you then, that what you
believe to be a frog, is no other than a
well-known familiar belonging to these
agents of the devil. Not past a week
ago, this same toad, or fiend rather, en-
tered the cottage of one John Atkins,
a carpenter dwelling by the road side,
who supecting what it was, presently
whips it up and throws it into the fire.
He saw it burning, when on a sudden
there was a great flash, and a report as
loud as that of a pistol. A moment after,
THE WITCH-FINDER. 87
he looked in the fire, but no toad re-
mained. It had fled with that same noise
to its guilty mistress.” -
“ How know you that?"
“ You shall hear. The next day At-
kins crossing this identical field, saw the
same toad. It seemed to look another
way, but hopped towards him. He knew
its craft, and forthwith ran away.”
“ But why did he so, as it hurt him not
when he put it in the fire ? How could
he afterwards be afraid of it?”
“Because being so near the witch’s
home, he knew not what other imps
might be near to act with it, or what
support it might receive from the witch
herself, or some of her guilty compa-
nions.”
“This is absolutely incredible.”
“ But the man went and made oath of
the fact before the mayor. Now for this,
Atkins received neither pay nor prefer-
88 THE WITCH-FINDER.
ment; therefore I leave it to your own
common sense to determine if it be likely
that he would have acted as he did, had
his relation been other than true.”
“ Atkins might believe what he swore,
and yet be deceived.”
“ What we have just seen proves to
my thinking, that he was not deceived,
since we have met with the very same
appearance which he saw, on the self-
same spot where it was seen by him.
And how did we see it?”
“ Truly but imperfectly, so far as I
am concerned.”
“ Nay, but we saw it in front of the
witch's dwelling, evidently looking out
in the first instance to see who drew
near, and then hastening back to make
known what it had seen.”
“You may consider this to be a witch's
errand-frog, and suppose that it was tr3-
velling home to carry the news of our ar-
THE WITCH-FINDER. 89
rival; but I only suspect it to have thus
bestirred itself to escape being crushed
by our feet.”
Thorpe remarked upon this speech,
that it was hard to convince those who
were resolved not to believe. He had
no doubt that his own view of the case
was the correct one. Besides supposing
the familiar as he called it, to have re-
tired to communicate with its principal,
he described its flight to have been not a
little accelerated by a few grains of the
dust from Joseph of Arimathea's grave,
which he said he fortunately had suffi-
cient presence of mind to throw on it the
moment it crossed the path.
Unconvinced by all he had heard or
seen, Challoner walked tranquilly to-
wards the cottage. They were half way
over the field which lay in front of it,
when a light appeared, and the door
opened. X. - º
90 THE WITCH-FINDER.
“The familiar has done its errand,”
Thorpe remarked, “ and see, another is
now coming in the shape of a dog.”
He had not ceased to speak, when the
being he had seen in the shape of a dog,
came towards them, barking as it came.
Thorpe called on Challoner to note that
its barking was unlike that of common
dogs; and Challoner could not deny that
there was something peculiar in the
sound. He clenched more tightly the
hand in which he grasped the stick, but
he abstained from using it, when the
creature which had attracted his atten-
tion by its vociferous and hostile ap-
proach, began to fondle on him and soli-
cit his notice.
“ Touch it not,” cried Thorpe, when
he saw Challoner extend his hand to pat
the animal on the head, “ you know not
what power you may give this cursed
object over you if once you favour it.”
THE WITCH-FINDER. 91
“You have spoken too late,” said
Challoner, while he caressed the dog,
which barked not threateningly as be-
fore, but in joyous acknowledgment of
the kind reception he had met.
Aslightmovement was perceived both
by Challoner and Thorpe immediately in
front of the cottage, and this seemed to
attract the attention of the dog, wh
forthwith retreated.
“ This familiar, sent out for the same
purpose as the former,” said Thorpe, “is
now returning to report what he has
seen. Have you a doubt remaining?”
Before Challoner could offer any reply
to this interrogatory, footsteps were heard
leaving the cottage.
“The hag herself is coming forth,”
Thorpe whispered.–“ We had as good
retire.” »-
The sounds had ceased, but Challoner
92 THE WITCH-FINDER.
had an imperfect view of two figures of
rather tall stature, which stood between
him and the cottage. One of them was
more advanced than the other, and while
he looked on the form, it seemed to in-
crease in height.
Thorpe glared on the apparition with
infinite amazement and alarm; pulled
Challoner by the cloak, and again ad-
vised an immediate retreat, whispering,
“ It is the tempter himself whom the
witch in her wrath has sent forth to fight
her battles. See how gigantic his form
has become.“
And Challoner, however disposed to
deny that Thorpe was right, was himself
sensible that the figure had mearlydoubled
its height since it was first seen. Re-
gardless of the intreaties of his friend he
advanced. He saw a living being ap-
parently ten feet high, grasping in his
THE WITCH-FINDER. 93
hand a weapon of some sort, what, he
could not determine, through the gloom
which prevailed.
Here Thorpe again bethought himself
of the dust which he had taken the
trouble to procure from the grave of
Joseph of Arimathea, and determined to
make trial of its efficacy. He recol-
lected the form set down by divines held
to bemost conversant with such affairs, as
that which was proper to address a damn-
ed spirit. He accordingly threw a grain
or two of the dust towards the supposed
fiend, while he solemnly demanded –
“ In the name of the Father, the Son,
and the Holy Ghost, why troublest thou
me?”
The writers of that period who were
best acquainted with the ceremonies ne-
cessary to be observed in communicating
with the spectres of deceased persons,
or with the devil, whatever form he might
94, THE WITCH-FINDER.
assume, laid it down as a rule which
ought in no case to be departed from,
that these awful words must be repeated
three times. This done, it would be in-
cumbent on the spirit apostrophised to
make his apologies, to justify the course
he had taken, by imparting what he had
it in charge to unfold, or to relieve the
complaining party from his presence.
On this occasion, the devil or the spirit,
with whom Thorpe attempted to hold
converse, had nothing to say for himself,
but vanished even before the words
had been completely pronounced the
first time. At that moment a sound as-
sailed their ears, which Thorpe thought
seemed like an enormous weight break-
ing the earth, and piercing to its centre,
and which Challoner himself likened to
a stamping with the feet. The words
had been uttered only once, but to make
all sure, as it was considered that very

THE WITCH-FINDER. 95
serious inconvenience might arise from
neglecting any of the formalities pre-
scribed for the better regulation of the
intercourse with spirits, Thorpe pru-
dently repeated them twice more. Chal-
loner gave no opinion on this ceremony,
but Thorpe afterwards declared himself
perfectly satisfied that it had had the
desired effect; and he even stated that
while he was yet speaking, he had most
distinctly heard the word “ Hush!” pro-
nounced by the demon, which he con-
sidered to have been addressed to himself
in the way of supplication to stay his
speech, and thus escape that punishment
which devils were supposed to have a
great distaste for, a ducking in the Red
Sea.
Thorpe held that he had now fully
made good his words, and given his
friend as wonderful a display as he could
have desired. Potent as the adjuration
96 THE WITCH-FINDER.
pronounced was proved to have been,
like a prudent general he was disposed
to rest content with the advantages
which he had gained, and not to go the
length of entering the witch's abode.
Challoner tacitly admitted himself to
be convinced by what he had seen that his
former opinions were erroneous. This,
at least Thorpe understood him to do, as
he readily consented to retire when the
figure which had been visible to both
was no longer seen.
But when Thorpe came to make known
that such was his belief, he was surprised
and in some degree shocked to learn that
he was mistaken. Challoner appeared
to remain as incredulous as ever. He
said he had been induced to return, when
invited to do so, partly because he was
convinced that by going forward, nothing
could be learned which would alter his
opinion, or cure the prejudices of his
THE WITCH-FIN DER. 97
companion, and partly because what he
had seen made him expect their further
advance would expose them to interrup-
tion from beings not of a supernatural
cláss, but of flesh and blood, whose
reasons for being there at that late hour
he was somewhat puzzled to guess.
It was in vain that Thorpe went over
the series of proofs which their excur-
sion had produced. The crowing of
the cock; the appearance of the familiar
“ in the form of a toad ;” and the attack
which they had sustained from “ some-
thing in the shape of a dog;” and, finally,
the exhibition of the arch enemy himself,
“ in the form of a tall black man.” These
were all treated by Challoner as things
but little to the purpose.
They returned to Redburn somewhat
discontented. Thorpe was ruffled by
the unchangeable character ofChalloners
opinion, and Challoner felt a little dis-
VOL. I- F F-

98 THE WITCH-FINDER.
posed to murmur that he had sacrificed
several hours to so little purpose. He
was however, assured that strong as
were the proofs which had already been
afforded of the existence of witches in
that neighbourhood, others would shortly
be forthcoming not less conclusive,
though Thorpe scarcely deemed it possi-
ble that any could be more so. The great
discoverer who had gained immortal
glory by defeating the devil and his
earthly allies so repeatedly, Master Mat-
thew Hopkins, would arrive in a day or
two; and his coming would prove the
destruction of the horrible crew, whose
arts had so repeatedly assailed his pro-
perty, and whose malignity he doubted
not, would soon be directed against
his life. cº”
Challoner said but little in reply, but
struck with the manner of Thorpe, whom
he had till that day regarded as the
THE WITCH-FINDER. 99
possessor of good sound sense, he half
reproached himself for having revealed
so much of his history as he had been
induced to disclose; but it was not now
to be recalled ; and though to one so
flighty as Thorpe had become, it might
have been wise to be less communicative,
there was nothing in what he had told
which could induce serious apprehen-
sion. Thorpe endeavoured, but in
vain, to persuade him to remain another
day. He was fixed to go to London,
where he believed his arrival was ex-
pected with anxiety, by one who had
soothed him during the most afflicting
moments he had known. This was Lady
Maitland, whose health he understood
to be in a precarious state; and as she
had expressed an earnest wish to see him,
he could not suffer himself to be detained
by all that Thorpe could promise in elu-
cidation of the ways of witches; nor even
F 2 .
100 THE WITCH-FINDER.
by the prospect of seeing his godson
James, the heir of his old friend, who had
gone to London with Albert, but whom,
for the gratification of his guest, Thorpe
offered to send for immediately.
"THE WITCH-FINDER. 101
CHAP. V.
Yet fear thou not, but speak audaciously.
" SHAKsPEARE.
As Challoner persevered in the resolu-
tion which he had announced, he returned
to St. Alban’s early in the morning. He
had told Robert that he would do so;
and at the moment of his arrival, the
trusty servant was engaged in paying
the innkeeper. The latter could not but
look with kindness on the payer of
money. There was something so aton-
ing in the act of handing over cash, that
he was disposed to forgive the past.
“ Well, my master,” said the landlord,
“ though you were not over courteous
when you arrived, I hope you have no
reason to complain of your lodging here.”
F 3
102 THE WITCH-FINDER.
“ Not much; your bed is certainly not
harder than the floor.”
“And I hope you found the provisions
good?”
“Some were eatable.”
“ And the attendance ?”
“The attendance was like the com-
pany, no great things. But there, I have
paid your demand. Moreover there is a
four-pence, for the drawer and the cham-
ber-maid to divide between them. And
now, friend, – vender of drink I mean,
– you may away, for my master requires
my service more than I do your con-
versation.” «.
“ Well,” said the host, “you are at
all events satisfied with my charges, since
you have not disputed my bill.”
“ Quite the contrary; but my master
forbids me to wrangle, since I got put
into the cage for threshing an innkeeper
THE WITCH-FINDER. 1O3
at Northampton, who was nearly as
arrant an extortioner as yourself.”
“ Your master knows people in our
line must charge." (h
“ Why, yes; he says you cannot help
it.”
“ Nor can we, Master Robert.”
“ So he declares; for he says you do it
from iniquitous instinct, which makes
robbery come as natural to an innkeeper
as mousing to a cat.”
“What you call robbery –”
“You call trade. I know it; and you,
after plundering me, if I, from distress,
should steal half so much as I have lost,
you would be competent to sit on a jury,
in the character of a good man, to send
me to the gallows.”
“ Marry, ifall were like you, innkeepers
could not live.”
“True; ifall were like me, there might
be some hopes of bringing the whole
F 4'
f04 THE WITCH-FINDER.
body to justice. But, as things are, I
deem them necessary evils.”
“ Needful goods, when you are famish-
ed and weary in a strange place, me-
thinks. People must pay for their fare.”
“To be sure. This the worshipful
members of your calling never forget
to hint.”
“How should they endure if they did
not ? All trades must live.”
“ I suppose so; and, no doubt, you con-
sider that the same providence which
furnishes thieves to the hangman, and
sailors to the shark, sends travellers to
you.”
“ It is beyond all question, that with-
out travellers we should want.”
“And they, having been in your
clutches, must want through falling in
with you. No matter; for, as you say, all
sorts must live. The Spider must have
his fly, and you your guest.“
THE WITCH-FINDER, 1O5
The landlord began to feel ruffled
at the compliments he received, and now
took a louder tone than he had previously
used.
“When you tell me –”
Robert had had no wish to provoke
him. He now saw his master in the
chamber he had occupied on the pre-
ceding day, making signs for him to go
up. He prepared to obey, but made an
hasty effort to sooth the innkeeper, which
he expected would give him entire satis-
faction.
“Save your breath to cool your pot-
tage. Never think I mean to speak
reproachfully. I don't blame a rat for
being a rat, a vulture for being a vulture,
or a landlord for being a landlord. There
must be devourers and vermin of all
sorts. You, Idare say, cannot help being
what you are. If Nature had given you
talents to make a serving-man, you might
F 5
106 THE WITCH-FINDER,
have been as I am ; and I, when I grow
old and worthless, shall probably get
turned away; and then, being unfit for
anything else, God only knows whether
I may not be tempted to keep an inn
myself. Should I fall to dishonest
practices, I may consider those in your
line safer than rifling stragglers on the
highway, even if my present strength
Were to remain to me.”
While speaking he folded up the bill
which he had just discharged, and care-
fully deposited it in a leathern bag, in
which the money confided to him for
such purposes was secured. These mat-
ters adjusted, he hastened to his employer,
as he finished his peace-making speech,
without waiting for answer or comment.
Chailoner had but few arrangements
to make. Among these, the disposing of
the flower, which has been mentioned,
was most prominent. It was handed to
THE WITCH-FINDER. 107
Robert, to be given to the care of the
man who had brought it to the inn;
a labourer, who for some years had been
paid by Challoner totend this plant.
Challoner and Robert took their de-
parture without further delay. The day
was fair, and Challoner frequently paused
to admire the richly wooded landscape,
and verdant meadows which challenged
attention on either hand. Sometimes a
well-remembered object made him sigh,
while it recalled years which were fled,
and reminded him offeelings in which he
could once indulge–feelings which were
no more to be revived than the days in
which they had been known. While
thus occupied, he was roused from a re-
verie into which he had fallen by the
trampling of horses. The sound rapidly
grew louder; those from whom it pro-
ceeded approached ; and he saw two per-
F 6
1 ()8 THE WITCH- FINDER.
sons, one young and of good appearance,
who forthwith accosted him. «-
“The brightness of the morning be
upon you, good Sir. I thought to have
greeted you earlier, for I have the plea-
sure to know to whom I speak.”
Indeed”
“ Yea, in very deed. Now you, I dare
Say, have not the pleasure of knowing
me.”
“ If it be pleasure to know you, I
certainly cannot pretend to its enjoy-
ment.”
* O, then, it's all to come. Your wor-
ship shall know how it chanced. By the
way, I must first stipulate, that you shall
not tell my old father.”
“ Nay,” said Challoner, “ it will be
your fault if I do, for I may never know
his name, if your father's son have wit
enough to keep his own council.”
THE WITCH-FINDER. 109
“ Of that I am not certain. Chance
had nearly thrown us together yesterday,
and I know not how soon we may be
again in the way of meeting.”
“ My curiosity, young gentleman, is not
so easily roused now as it was formerly,
or what you have said would certainly
have induced the question, who are you?"
“ I am your worship's godson. – Mas-
ter Jemmy Thorpe.”
“Are you really James Thorpe?”
“ I think so. If not, I have been an
impostor from my cradle, for I have al-
ways passed for Master Jemmy. It's a
wise child, they say, that knows his own
father. This I cannot pretend to do;
and, to my poor thinking, it's pretty well
to know my own godfather.”
“ You were but a very boy when I
last saw you. It would have been im-
possible for me to recognise you, and I
110 THE WITCH-FINDER.
cannot but wonder that you were enabled
to do so much by me.”
“ Let your admiration pause, while I
unfold. I slept last night where this
bluff brazen rogue at your heels kicked
up a riot.”
** A riot!”
“ By snoring; in no other way, I believe,
though he was pretty near doing it.”
“ How did it happen that you were
like to create a disturbance ?" Challoner
enquired of Robert.
“ Because,” said Robert, “people
choose to take offence at nothing. I
only told them the truth.”
“Only told them the truth ! ” James
exclaimed. “ That was enough I think.
Tell the truth, of but the last twelve
hours of all the people of the best fame
in the kingdom, and a pretty hubbub will
ensue. Five thousand murders, and ten
-
THE WITCH-FINDER » 1 11
thousand divorces are the least that can
be calculated upon for a beginning.”
“ And did this fellow tell you in his
sleep aught of me ?”
“ No, but your name I got from the
landlord, who told me that you were gone
with my father to his home.”
“ How happened it that I saw you not
there?”
“That is what I am about to tell, but
what you must not tell again to my ho-
noured papa, unless you have a desire to
bring poor little Jemmy into a scrape,
out of which he will not soon be able to
get himself. You shall know all about
it. I left town yesterday with .
But stay – I must pause here to do the
thing properly in order, and introduce to
your especial notice and patronage, my
friend Master Tom Green. This gentle-
man, you must know, has the honour
to be a vagabond.”
I 12 THE WITCH-FINDER.
* * HOW P”
“ How! By act of parliament, I be-
lieve. He is, in other words, a noted
player. You look at him rather critically,
as if you thought, from the capacity of
his mouth, that his ears ought to be put
somewhat backwarder, to be completely
out of its way. But mark you, Tom is
not a tragedian.”
Challoner looked on Green, and could
scarcely withhold a smile at the associ-
ation of his name with tragedy.
“ I see your worship is disposed to
laugh at the idea of the ruefully ludi-
crous, which Tom’s physiognomy sug-
gests. Never mind Tom, the gen-
tleman will never laugh you out of your
countenance. If he did, how humanity
would profit by his merriment! But
holdup your head,Tom : nature, ingiving
you that admirable squint, and that horse-
shoe mouth, made you independent; for
THE WITCH-FINDER. 1 18
when the Puritans shut up all the play-
houses, you had only to exhibit your
phiz in a corn-field to scare the crows,
and live like a gentleman."
“ Marry,” said Tom, “ I wish you
would make your words good.”
“ Because then I should make your
face good.”
“Yes, if it enabled me to live like a
gentleman ; for it has not done so yet.”
“Your ideas are too lofty. Being the
Son of a respectable merchant in the city,
as you say, (your parents having kept a
small-coal shop,) and you, moreover,
being the first and only tender pledge of
their love, you consider yourself entitled
to the luxuries offortune, while throwing
up the occupation I would assign to you,
to act at the Red Bull.
“ But,” said Challomer, who seemed
weary of this trifling, “ you were about
114 THE WITCH-FINDER.
telling me something which you seem to
have forgotten.”
“ So I was; but Tom's face scared my
recollection, as it did his own horseyes-
terday, half a mile from the road intended
to be travelled. What I was going to say
was this: – Tom Green, of the Theatre-
Royal, Red Bull – they call it among
themselves Royal, because if the King
never went there, we know he would be
glad to go if he could, – Tom and I set
off from Saint John Street to have a little
acting at St. Alban’s, where a party of sly
goodfellows expected our coming. When
we got there, we found that the Mayor,
set on by Harrison and Peters, had taken
up our Antonio (for our play was to have
been * The Merchant of Venice'), and
would not let him off for so little as a
pound of his flesh, but must needs keep
his whole carcase. Hereupon, Tommy
Green could not exhibit his Gobbo graces.
THE WITCH-FINDER. 116
Now, you must know, there were two
bonny wenches, whose father, though
once a banker, has been reduced to hide
in a small house near St. Alban’s, came
over to enact Portia and Nerissa ”
“What!” exclaimed Challoner, with
surprise, “ were females to have acted?”
“ Even so. They, however, used the
precaution of coming in men's apparel,
so that few would have more than guessed
the trick. These, observe you, are good
royalist wenches, who rightly deem there
is no sin in a play, as the Puritans
pretend.”
“ Ladies of very liberal ideas, no doubt,
who not only approve of a play, but come
in the dress of the other sex to assist in
its representation.” &
“ These pretty jades being thus disap-
pointed, and no play beginning by the
coming-on of evening, when it should
have ended, I and Mr. Tom must needs
116 THE WITCH-FINDER.
escort them home. There we found the
good man of the house was absent, and
their brother made us welcome to stay
with them. Whether it was the spiced
wine I drank, I cannot say, but somehow
or other I lost my way when I would
have gone home. We tramped about the
fields till we saw a light, when, going
near it, I found it came from the hut of
the old witch.”
“ Did you so?” enquired Challoner,
with some eagerness, for he now felt an
interest in the young man's narrative,
which it had not previously inspired.
“ We did,” said James; “and so, cried
I, “ let witch or devil live here, I’ll ask
a civil question.” ” "e-
“ You went then to her cottage?”
«« I did.”
“ And did you converse with her?"
“ I did. By-the-bye, there are two of
them; and one of them, but for the devil-
THE WITCH-FINDER. 117
ish black hood she wears, would not be
an ill-looking woman.”
“ And were they well-spoken and
obliging?”
“ Very much so, indeed. They could
not well be off of it, I was so polite to
them. “ Ladies,” said I, “ we would not
put you to an inconvenience by borrow-
ing your broomsticks, though, if you hap-
pened to be journeying our way, and
had room for two, we should like to
get up behind, if you would set us down
at the neighbouring town; but as you,
perhaps, are not for taking the air your-
selves to-night, be so accommodating as
to tell us which way we ought to go.'”
“And did they direct you?"
“ Very accurately indeed, and the
good-looking one offered us refreshments.
To be sure, they had no wine, but I
took a good draught of milk from her
hand.”
1 18 THE WITCH-FINDER.
“Then nothing remarkable occurred?"
“ Not while I was there; but the mo-
ment her hood had closed, I was just get-
ting over the gate – Tom was exactly
behind me at the time, when I heard my
father's voice, very solemnly enquiring
why I troubled him ! It would not do
for me to be caught there, or I would
have demanded why he troubled me.
As matters stood, I thought it best
to crouch down till he had walked
off. Now this it is which I am anxious
to conceal from my father."
“ Nay, it is desirable that it should be
communicated to him, for he believes
that it was an evil spirit which he saw.”
“ Well, perhaps, he was less out in that
than he has been sometimes; but how-
ever, he sees so many unearthly things,
that whether he believes himself to have
beheld a hobgoblin or two, more or less,
is of no consequence.”
THE WITCH-FINDERs 119
“ You make toolightly of your father's
feelings. I think you would do well to
undeceive him at once.”
“ That, my worthy Sir, would be no
easy task. Fathers are generally self-
willed, and undutifully obstinate when
their sons endeavour to teach them, for
their own good, how they ought to be-
have; but my good papa is more perverse
than anybody else, when you come to talk
of spectres and witches. I am persuaded
that he would incline to the belief that I
had sold myself to the devil, if I were to
tell that it was I whom he addressed last
night, when he supposed that he was
confronted by that much-calumniated
personage.” «.
This opinion James stoutly maintained
against all the arguments that Challoner
could use. He added, that he had left
St. Alban’s to travel towards London,
12O THE WITCH-FINDER.
partly from fear of being discovered in
the neighbourhood of Redburn – partly
from a wish to overtake and pay his court
to his godfather, and partly that he might
rejoin a friend whom he expected to en-
counter on the road.
He and Challoner continued to jour-
ney on together, and their conversation
turned on public affairs. The godson
declared these to be in a very unsettled
state, and gave it as his opinion that the
people generally would rejoice to witness
the restoration of monarchy.
“ And on what grounds have you
adopted this belief?” demanded Chal-
loner.
“Simply on this ; that they are weary
of the canting hypocrisy which has pre-
vailed for some years. Norte but a set
of crazy old men, withered dowagers,
and maidens past hope, can favour a
government so tyrannically stupid.”
THE wITCH-FINDER, 121
“ which prohibits a play acting"
Green put in.
“ Ay,” resumed his companion, ** and
worse than that, which made kissing a
girl a capital crime.”
“ Without benefit of clergy,” added
Green.
“Yes,” said James, “you must look
for no benefit of clergy if you, seek ac-
quaintance with the other sex without
benefiting them to the amount of the
marriage fee.”
“ Indeed! I thought it was no longer
common for marriages to be solemnised
by the ministers of religion.”
“ Nor is it in church as formerly; but
the parties disposed to commit matri-
mony when they go before a magistrate
are sure to find in him a fanatical par-
son; and he, though too much honoured
in being likened to the orthodoxclergy,
VOL. I. G



122 THE WITCH-FINDER.
like them, will not forget to exact the
marriage douceur.”
“ But is the dissatisfaction of which
you speak general among the people.”
“ It is. Since they gained what has
been called freedom, they have suffered
so much from tyranny, that one and all
consider by rebelling against the late
king, they only gained an opportunity of
leaping out of the frying-pan into the
fire.” *
“Why, the taxes are certainly now
much more onerous than ever they
were in the king's time. This the na-
tion must know."
“They do know it; and those who
were formerly friendly to what was
called a free government, now feel much
disposed to rise against it. My friend
Rhapsody, who used to apologise for the
irregularities, as he termed them, which
had occurred at different periods, now
THE WITCH-FINDER. 123
acknowledges the acts of the govern-
ment to be quite indefensible.”
“ Having once favoured the revolu-
tionists?”
“ Decidedly. To be sure, he was
but seventeen when he made his song
in their behalf, which he knocked off in
a fit of school-boy enthusiasm. It was,
however, a good deal relished by some
of the roundheads, who but for the am-
bling measure in which it was written,
would have set it to a psalm tune. It
ran thus:–
“Never tell me the licence young Liberty takes
Should teach acquiescence in tyranny's sway;
Ifdazzled our vision when morning first wakes,
Shall we therefore deploreas an evil the day.
The disorderly efforts, while freedom is new,
To guard and extend our best national wealth,
I only as infancy's stretchings can view,
Which mothers declare prove the babeis in health.
Nortell me the evils which subjects endure,
Where the will of a merciless despotis law;
Though painful, are easier borne than the cure,
If Britons the sword of resistance should draw.
G 2
124 THE WITCH-FINDER.
Then fight for your birthright – away dastard fears:
A freeman to bleed, and to die with the brave,
Is better than living through thousands of years
Toperish at last but a grey-headed slave.'"
THE WITCH-FINDER. 125
CHAP. VI.
Knock on my heart, for thou hast skill to find
If it soundsolid, or be filled with wind;
And through the veil of words thou view'st the naked
mind. DRYDEN.
Though Challoner was not sorry to have
seen his godson, and though, excepting
that libertine air which with young men
of vivacity is perhaps, somewhat too
common, he saw nothing to which he
could object, he would willingly have
dispensed with his further attendance.
But James manifested no intention of
Soon parting with him ; and when as the
day advanced, he attempted to shake
him off the effort only served to convince
him that it was not easily to be done.
“I think," said Challoner, “ we must
now separate, for I am about to deviate
from the London Road.”
G 3
126 THE WITCH-FINDER.
“ I hope,” said James, “ I am not to
lose my worthy godsire so soon.”
“You may have business in town which
will require your presence.”
“ I have no business to look to which
ought not, and which shall not give way
to the pleasure of enjoying your society
a little longer.”
“ But your father may expect you :
indeed I think he said he did.”
“ Not for a day or two; and I have
no wish to encounter him till he has, in
some measure, got over the apparition
which he saw the other night.”
Challoner then told his godson that he
proposed going to Southgate, where mat-
ters of some importance claimed his at-
tention. James offered to attend him
there and await his leisure.
To this Challoner had serious reasons
for objecting, and reasons, too, which
he did not care to state. Though enough
THE WITCH-FINDER, 127
had fallen from his companion to satisfy
him, that possessed of his secret, it was
not likely that James would design-
edly thwart him, he doubted his pru-
dence too much to think of trusting him
with what was not only important to him-
self, but which, if improperly revealed,
might compromise the safety of others.
He therefore felt compelled, in plain
terms, to inform the young man that he
wished to visit Southgate unaccompa-
nied. But he added he would not refuse
to join company at some other place
on the road to London, that they might
conclude their journey together.
“O, then,” cried James, “ be our meet-
ing-place at Hornsey. There, just op-
posite the little barn, with an uncouth
tower at one end, which the natives call
a church, and which is too humble to
move the canting tyrants of the day to
break its windows or deface its unadorn-
G4
128 THE WITCH-FINDER.
ed walls,–just there, live Lesley and his
sister.”
“ Indeed! The elder Lesley I much
esteemed. I shall have great satisfaction
in seeing theson.”
“And you will have great satisfaction
in seeing his sister, that is, if you find de-
light in gazing on beauty. Celia Lesley
is one of the loveliest females in the king-
dom, or commonwealth.”
“ And if it please you,” said Challoner,
“ bestow the man who follows me at the
nearest inn.” -
James undertook this, and they parted,
Challoner promising to repair to Hornsey
before nightfall. «. -
Having left his company, he took the
path to Southgate, warily looking back
several times to ascertain that he was
neither followed nor watched. He en-
tered the village, put up his horse at the
inn, and then walked forth as if to con-
THE WITCH-FINDER. 129
template the surrounding scenery. With
the exception of a few children who were
engaged in pastimes befitting their age, he
saw scarcely any one moving in the neigh-
bourhood. At all events he discovered no
one whose appearance was calculated to
give him alarm, and he sauntered to the
door of a cottage which stood by itself,
and demanded of an aged woman who
sat spinning at the door, if Peter Mac
Manus, the travelling thread-merchant,
was there?
He was answered in the affirmative,
and directed to seek the person for whom
he had enquired in the upper apartment.
Thither he proceeded and would have
opened the door and passed in, but he
found it secured.
“ Show me the corner,” said a voice
from within.
Challoner understood this demand, and
immediately put under the door, the
G 5
130 THE WITCH-FINDER-
corner of a sheet of paper which he had
torn from one on which he had been
writing some days before, and kept for
the purpose ofproducing it on the present
occasion, that by the exact fitting of the
fragment, his own identity might be
proved.
***Tis well,” was the remark of the
person who received this toker. “ Pause
yetamoment, and you shall be admitted.”
In a few moments the door opened, and
a man meanly attired stood before him
with abandage over his eyes. Challoner
started at this, for after the proof he had
given of his being the party expected,
he naturally concluded that all further
precaution or disguise would have been
deemed superfluous.
“ Forget not the ancient proverb,"
said the blindfolded inmate of the cham-
ber, “that “walls have ears, and so fashion
thy discourse that if they could become
THE WITCH-FINDER. 131
witnesses they would nothing testify that
might bring thee to harm.”
“ In truth, good Master Bentley,” said
Challoner.
“ Is it thus you observe the caution,”
interrupted the other, “which I have
just given ? From one of your years
and discretion I expected not such a
greeting at this moment."
“I stand corrected,” Challoner replied:
“ your appearance, so different from
what I expected it would be, provoked
enquiry, and for the moment threw me
off my guard.”
“ Be careful and remember the admo-
nition which I have offered.”
While speaking, the supposed dealer
in thread placed a shutter against the
window, so as wholly to exclude light
from the apartment.
“This,” said Challoner, “ I deem un-
necessary.” «
G 6
132 THE WITCH-FINDER.
“ And why ?" -
“ Because if overlooked our motions
would reveal nothing; nor would they be
such as to challengeparticular attention.”
“This is true, but still prudence jus-
tifies what I have done.”
“It may be so.”
“ It is so; for in a few days I shall pro-
bably be questioned as to whether I have
communicated with any one from Mr.
Best, (I deem it well to speak the lan-
guage of Elizabeth) and something may
depend on my being able solemnly to
swear that I have seen no one sent by
him.” « -
“ Your caution seems to me excessive,
but this at the worst is an error on the
right side.”
“Now hasten to inform me of what-
eVE!' you are possessed of relative to Mr.
Best. Is he willing to superintend the
business on the terms which I wrote
THE WITCH-FINDER, 133
were the only ones on which I could
engage.”
“ Heis. I am authorised to say, past dif-
ferences shall be no more remembered ;
and he is quite ready to proceed to the
East Indies, whenever you think the
proper time for making the voyage has
arrived.”
“This is well so far. But how is the
second affected.” -
“ He has declared himself anxious for
the prosperity of Mr. Best.”
“ But is he disposed to embark any
barrels offgs.”
** That is doubtful.”
“ May Mr. Best hope for his assistance
in another way, to the amount of three
or four bags ºf pepper.” -
“ I fear not. But should he prove
fortunate in his first venture, much may
be looked for: further shipments will
take place. Now, inform me what is the
134 THE WITCH-FINDER.
prospect here. Have you any figs in
your keeping?"
“ I think several barrels will be soon at
my command.”
“Any nutmegs ?”
A large quantity may easily be had at
a short notice, so I believe, provided the
one thing needful be not wanted.
* You mean, brown thread.”
* I do. This, furnished in sufficient
quantity, bags Qf pepper, barrels Qffigs,
cases of mutmegs, and wines, and oils, will
not be looked for in vain."
“ Irejoice to hear it. The state of
the East Indies then is decidedly favour-
able.” -
“ Mr. Best may be assured of that.
Let the brown thread be forthcoming at
the proper time, and all the rest will
follow.” « 4
“Then I am in hopes, enough of that
will be furnished at no distant period.”
THE WITCH-FINDER. 135
“ Shortly, I doubt not, it will be in my
power to communicate agreeable intelli-
gence. In the mean time, should we
meet, we must not seem to know each
other. The vigilance of the factors on
the other side would surprise you, if I
were to tell you all that I know. But
this is unnecessary. It is sufficient for
you to be informed, that we cannot be
too wary in matters of business. I will
not longer detain you. When you write
to Mr. Best, it may be as well hinted,
that he must take care not to remain too
long in the neighbourhood of the young
man, or he may be detained on account
of a former claim, to a considerable quan-
tity of brown thread."
Challoner then took his departure with
the remark that he was aware caution
was necessary in all trading affairs. This
was said aloud for the dame below to
hear as he descended the stairs; and in
136 THE WITCH-FINDER.
the same tone he bade Master Peter Mac
Manus farewell.
The person who was thus styled by
Challoner was in fact but the represent-
ative of one of Oliver Cromwell's gene-
rals, who disgusted with the state of
things which succeeded the abdication
of Richard Cromwell, now shared that
wish which had become general among
the people for the restoration of mo-
narchy. When he proposed that they
should converse in the language of Eli-
zabeth, his meaning was that in reference
to state affairs they should use, pursuant
to a previous agreement, the terms
adopted in certain cyphers formed in
the reign of the queen of that name, to
indicate objects very different from those
which were expressed, and which had
now been adopted by the friends of the
king. By Mr. Best the sovereign of
England was meant; by second, the king
THE WITCH-FINDER. 137
of France; by the young man, the king
of Spain; by bags ofpepper, ships of war
were understood; by barrels of figs,
soldiers; by cases of mutmegs, mariners;
byfactors, spies. The East Indies meant
England ; oils stood for victuals; wines,
for munitions of war; and brown thread,
which was to provide for every thing,
was money.
Challoner mounted his horse and soon
quitted the village. He went by Colney
Hatch, and pursued the winding lane
which leads by Muswell Hill to Hornsey.
He regretted the promise which he had
made to the younger Thorpe; for besides
that he was anxious to communicate
forthwith what he had heard from Bent-
ley to one in correspondence with the
king, matters connected with his own
private affairs made him desirous of get-
ting to London without delay, and with-
out that society which he had now no
138 THE WITCH-FINDER.
idea of escaping, as he had no intention
of breaking his word. -
On quitting Southgate, he had looked
carefully around to observe if any one
followed him. Satisfied that he had no
ground for alarm on this subject, he ad-
vanced securely when his progress was
suddenly arrested by the sound of his
own name. He scarcely believed his
senses when he saw a tall athletic man
stand full before him, whose voice he
had heard, not then for the first time,
and who now accosted him with
“What, Master Challoner again in
Middlesex! Nay, then I suppose there is
something yet to be attempted for Charles
Stuart.”
Challoner offered to avoid the person
who had addressed him; but the man
kept in front of him, so that without
urging his horse full against him, Chal-
Ioner could not advance.
THE WITCH-FINDER. 139
“ What not a word !” cried the other.
“Do you affect not to know me? or do you
think by appearing shy to make me sup-
pose that I am mistaken in your person?”
“ I do not affect not to know you,”
said Challoner, “ but the recollections
connected with our former acquaintance
are not such as to wake in me any strong
desire for a renewal of it.”
“ Times are changed Master Challo-
ner, since you and I were acquainted. The
ungrateful crew I served with so much
zeal have requited those exertions which
secured their power, by turning it against
me; they have pursued me with unre-
lenting malice; and, covered with insult,
I have at length been driven into the
obscurity in which I now repose, con-
soled only by the hope that the fools who
have scorned me will not long be able
to hold things together by themselves.”
“ That hope you are free to enjoy,
140 THE WITCH-FINDER.
but I can have nothing to say to it.
Your restless disposition was formerly
your enemy, and so I find it continues.
When you, George Johnson, first raised
your voice in the king's time against
what were really grievances, I believed
you animated by sincere patriotism; but
the ferocious lengths to which you were
soon carried satisfied me that impatience
of all government was the passion by
which you were moved; and the cruel
measures which it was once your boast
that you had caused to be proposed in
council, proved you a wretch devoid of
feeling.”
“ In assenting to the death of the
king, I did no more than others.”
“ But with you originated the horrid
order for inserting those staples in the
scaffold which were placed near the block
on the morning of the day which saw the
martyr led out to die. It was you that
-
sº
THE WITCH-FINDER. 141
first contemplated the dragging of your
sovereign down by ropes, even as an ox
is dragged to slaughter.”
“ It is true that when I accompanied
Sir Hardress Waller, and others of the
committee appointed to select a fit and
proper place for the execution, I did
suggest that such preparation might be
needful, nor was it deemed unreasonable.
Charles had repeatedly refused to ac-
knowledge the high court of justice;
and what assurance was there that he
would yield more obedience to the axe.”
“ I speculate not on what he might
have done ; it is enough that I know
what you did to justify the wish I avow
of seeing you no more.”
With these words Challoner offered to
advance. u-
“Stay,” cried Johnson, “ though I
admit that I am of those who, having
once resolved that an act is fitting to be
142 THE WITCH-FINDER.
done, are not inclined to let petty obsta-
cles retard the execution, and would
therefore counsel precautions which men
of weaker nerve could tremble to adopt;
yet I could now be as good a friend to
royalty as even Master Challoner him-
self.”
* It may be so, but with this I have
nothing to do, and will therefore pursue
my way.” «
“Why so hasty? I affect not to feel
any weak remorse for the part which I
formerly acted; yet an ardent, a mad-
dening thirst for vengeance would in-
duce me to unite with those who are
labouring to bring back Charles Stuart.”
“And why is this signified to me ?”
“And why is this simplicity affected
with me ? It is not now when Oliver is in
his grave, that those friends of the Stuart
family are likely to fall off, who clung to
the king, as they call him, the moment it
THE WITCH-J'IN DER. 148
was known that it was resolved to execute
his father.”
“ I have not sought to intrude my
opinions on you,” said Challoner; “ what
my private sentiments remain can be of
little consequence to any one. The
existing government allows those to re-
turn who choose to make their sub-
mission, and how are you informed that
such is not the purpose of my coming to
England?"
“ Your look when you first recognised
me, more ingenuous than your speech,
now when for your own benefit and se-
curity I invite your confidence, revealed
to me more than you suspect. But I
blame not your caution. Methinks,
however I can give you some strong
reasons for believing that you are at pre-
sent addressed with sincerity. In the
first place, if you know what I have en-
dured you will not wonder that I should
144 THE WITCH-FINDER.
thirst for revenge ; and as the Stuart
party is evidently fast gaining strength,
you may easily comprehend that I should
have no objection to get my neck out of
the halter which I know is prepared for it,
should Charles ascend the throne of his
fathers without my aid. Though life has
few charms for me; though I confess the
ingratitude, the folly, the damnation of
others have doomed me to remain a
wretch, yet I would willingly avoid a
scaffold.”
“ Your desire for revenge may be
rational, and your fear is certainly not
unreasonable; but why are you pleased to
suppose that a cause which it should
seem owns no lack of friends, should
select me to be the moving agent in its
most weighty concerns.”
“ Knowing your attachments in other
days, I cannot doubt your presence in
this part of the country is connected
THE WITCH-FINDER. 145
with those preparations which, I am well
assured, are in progress to pave the way
for bringing in Charles Stuart. Perhaps
I know more than you suspect. Provoked,
you will find me as reckless, as desperate
as ever.”
“ If I am to be believed, matters very
distinct from state affairs engaged my
attention at St. Albans where I rested
last night, and now induce me to hasten
to London.” &
“ Indeed! Oh, then, I must be wrong.
If you were not engaged in politics at
St. Albans, and have other concerns to
attend to in London, of course you
pass free from all suspicion. Since there
are two places where you are not imme-
diately to act, no one can suspect that
you have any thought of treason to the
commonwealth elsewhere."
“You seemincredulous?"
“And am as I seem; which is more
vol. 1. H -,
146 THE WITCH-FINDER.
than you dare lay your hand upon your
heart and say. I invite you fairly to
confide in me. Eventually, you will find
that to do so were wise. I am an Out-
raged man; I live but for vengeance.
It may be in your power to array my
wrath on your side.”
“At present I have nothing to say
that can induce me longer to pause in
my journey.”
“ Again you refuse. What if having
solicited your confidence in vain, I were
now to demand it? If, before I allow
you to pass on, I determine to search
your garments and your saddle? May I
not obtain some intelligence which might
satisfy a reasonable man of the part you
are about to act ?”
While he spoke he produced a pistol,
which, without seeming directly to pre-
sent it at Challoner, he held in such
a position that if discharged its contents
could not miss the person of the in-
THE WITCH-FINDER. 147
dividual he had thoughtproper to detain.
His manner was equivocal. Challoner
was not certain whether Johnson meant to
intimate that he was prepared to meet
resistance, or whether he actually in-
tended to restrain him by force. He
believed the latter, and exclaimed with
some indignation, »-
“ How now! what means this robber-
like attack ?” -
“ Robber-like attack!” echoed John-
son, in a tone which spoke him highly
incensed at the epithet applied to him.
His voice however, immediately subsid-
ed into calm expostulation. The pistol
was rather hastily withdrawn, and con-
veyed beneath his cloak. “When I
expressed a wish that you should make
some brief stay," he said, “I little ex-
pected that you would deem the language
which you have used descriptive of my
conduct.”
H 2
148 THE WITCH-FINDER.
Challoner was surprised at the al-
teration he remarked in the speech
and deportment of Johnson, but had
made no reply, when a youth accom-
panied by a lady on horseback, passed
them. From the direction in which
they approached, Johnson had been the
first to see them ; and this circum-
stance might have produced the change
in his manner which has been noted.
At all events, Challoner suspected such
to have been the case; and, as the
strangers were journeying the way he
proposed to go, he determined not to
lose the protection their presence might
afford. He accordingly left Johnson
abruptly, and followed them. As he
passed on, the former called out to
him, in a tone which seemed to invite
a return while it threatened a visit,
“We shall soon meet again.”
THE WITCH-FINDER, 140
CHAP. VII.
Let not an open hand disperse that store,
Which gone, life's gone, for all tread down the poor.
- - DEkkER.
The youthful pair who had thus oppor-
tunely come up, were engaged in con-
versation, and seemed not to notice
Challoner and Johnson. As they passed,
the latter turned his back to them,
as if to guard against recognition. Chal-
loner urged his horse forward, so as
to keep within a few yards of them, and
believed himself very near the resi-
dence of Lesley when descending a
long steep hill leading into Hornsey the
animal herode fell, and he was thrown
forward with violence. Those whom he
had followed stopped, and he was lifted
H 8
1 50 THE WITCH-FINDER.
from the ground by the gentleman, who
enquired with an air of great anxiety, if
he had suffered severely from his fall.
Challoner was too much stunned to
make a suitable answer.
“I am sorry,” said the youth, “to
have troubled you with a question, which
I but too plainly perceive might have
been spared. It however fortunately
happens that assistance can soon be had.
I will bear you to a place where you
shall receive every attention.”
He was about to take Challoner into
his arms, when the latter now partly
recovered from the shock, thanked the
kindness thus manifested, but declared
himself able to walk. ..
“ Then lean on me, Sir,” cried the
other, presenting his arm: “ we shall
soon obtain assistance.” 2.
“Why, hownow, Rhapsody?” exclaim-
ed James Thorpe, who at this moment ap-
THE WITCH-FINDER«, 151
proached.“ Ha, Master Challoner! What,
has your horse played you a jade's trick,
coming down hill? O, zounds! I see by
his bleeding knees that he turned pu-
ritan though you wouldnot, and has been
at his prayers. How did it happen?
Where are you pushing?" he angrily
demanded of Robert, who now pressed
forward. »-
“Why, forward to my master, to be
sure.” »
“ Well, but you could look before
you, and might have seen that I was in
the way." -
“ I did see that you were in the
way.” -
“Then you Gºught to have known that
it was your business–” -
“To push you out of it."
“My dear, dear Sir, I am rejoiced to
see you,” was the address of another
person, who now came forward, and
H 4.
152 THE WITCH-FINDER.
who was no other than Lesley, to whose
house Challoner had proposed to go.
“ I am glad to see you on any terms;
but it is a serious drawback on the plea-
sure to find you thus disabled.”
“ How did it happen, god-papa?”
enquired James, before Challoner could
make any reply to Lesley. “Why, I
thought you were too good a horseman
to let this animal give you such a touch
of the precipitate.”
“Can I procure anything for you,”
Lesley asked, “ that may be of service
to you at this moment? Shall I di-
rect, – ” - -
“Don’t worret,” Robert called out;
“you must see that thº is no time for
compliments.”
James was about to notice the rude-
ness of Robert, when Challoner spoke.
“ Really this alarm and anxiety are
-
THE WITCH-FINDER. 153
not justified by the cause of them.
Though somewhat shaken, I am not ma-
terially injured by the fall. I am pleased
to meet with you, Mr. Lesley. Toyou
Sir," atdressing himself to the indi-
vidualwho had first hastened to his assist-
ance, “my best thanks are due for your
active humanity.” -
A silent bow, with an accompanying
smile of satisfaction, were the answer to
this acknowledgment. Robert was told
that he might transfer his attentions to
the horse, and Challoner walked through
the village of Hornsey, at the entrance
of which the accident had happened, to
the house of Lesley.
Here the lady who had witnessed the
accident, impatiently awaited his arrival.
She had hastened forward to announce
to her brother, Mr. Lesley, what had
occurred, and he on the instant con-
cluding that it might be the guest he
H 5
154 THE WITCH-FINDER.
expected, had run with James to the
spot.
Gratified to find himself in the society
of the son and daughter of an old friend,
Challoner soon forgot his mishap. The
cordiality of Lesley was such as he had
a right to expect, and the beauty of
Celia he found deserved more than
all that had been - said in its praise.
Her symmetry and grace commanded
admiration, but there was an expression
of animated sweetness in her counte-
nance, with an air, as it seemed to him,
of benevolent exultation in his safety,
which gave her bewitching features a
character he would not have scru-
pled to pronounce angelic. Rivetted
on these attractions Challoner repeatedly
detected the eyes of the young gen-
tleman who had lately assisted him,
and who had perhaps rendered him
more important service when he termi-
THE WITCH-FINDER, 155
nated his conference with Johnson.
Challoner felt a wish to know some-
thing of him, for in the confusion which
prevailed, he had not heard his name,
but he collected from the manner in
which he was addressed by James
Thorpe, that this was the poet the
latter had called Rhapsody, and whose
verses he had repeated on the road.
The conversation became interesting
to the parties engaged in it. Challoner
learned with satisfaction, that some of
his old friends still survived and re-
mained faithful to the Stuart cause.
James rattled on with great hilarity, and
freely expressed his hope that the then
existing government could not endure
much longer, and the poet remarked
that that state of things which it was
once fondly believed by many would
bring liberty and unalloyed comfort to
156 THE WITCH-FINDER.
the nation at large, had enthralled it,
and disappointed all the expectations
excited, so that those who were once
among the staunchestadvocates for repub-
licanism, were constrained to admit that
it had brought sorrows in its train, to
which the people of England had been
strangers while monarchy continued.
The manner in which he spoke proved
that the sentiment he had expressed
was really his own. The language
which he subsequently held, confirmed
the good opinion which Challoner had
conceived of him. Though bold and
decisive, it was not unguarded, and his
prudence seemed as conspicuous as his
courage.
Lesley entreated that Challoner should
remain there that night, and in the
morning he would endeavour to procure
him another horse. Though Challoner
had made light of the injury which he
-“ 3 º
THE WITCH-FINDER. 157
received from the fall, he felt too much
indisposed to resist the pressing entreaties
of Lesley, and consented to stay.
This point being settled, as James
could not look for the company of his
god-father that night, he prepared to go
when the other visitor offered to retire.
He took leave, promising to return the
following morning. The two young
men had left the house, and one had
already mounted and set off, when
Lesley following called to James, who
was just starting.
“A word with you. Is it very im-
portant that you should reach town to
night?" » - -
“ Not at all,” was the answer: “ I in-
deed purpose resting at Islington, where
Rhapsody lodges.” x- . . .
“ I expected,” Lesley resumed, “a
visit from old Ironzfäce, as you dubbed
him, whom you have seen here once or
158 THE WITCH-FINDER,
twice, and whose name you were curious
\.
to know." -
“As you were careful to conceal.”
“The secret shall now be yours, if
you will wait on him for me. He re-
sides near Enfield; the house is on the
right as you pass from the chase, encom-
passed by a high wall and large gates.”
“ I know it; the centre of the building
is like a chapel, between two spacious
wings.”
“The same : one Johnson is the
owner of it. Now the fact is, he was
of the round-head party, and I care not
that Challoner or any of my father's
connection, should know that he and I
are on terms; therefore I would not
have them meet; and he himself objects
to come here, but when I am quite
alone. He is likely to be of service
to me, and I wish to spare him any un-
pleasant recognition. What I should like

THE WITCH-FINDER, 159
you to do, is this. Bear a note to him
from me, and state, as from your own
knowledge, that the circumstance which
makes the communication necessary, is
of sudden and unexpected occurrence.
He will entertain you hospitably, and
you can depart as early or as late as
you please in the morning.”
“ Nay, I must be early; for at Islington
I have friends to meet at seven of the
clock, who will not be baulked. But
shall I sleep in old Iron-face's house ?
I shall fancy it a giant's castle, and ex-
pect the master of it to approach me
while I sleep with his fé fä fum.”
“ Will you go?” »
“Certainly; but I must take the dog
that follows me – Tom Green.”
He can be bestowed; but tell him he
must not talk too loudly of play-acting
in the presence of his host. To Rhap-
sody you need not mention the errand
160 THE WITCH-FINDER.
on which you are going. Make some
other excuse for leaving him.”
“ I will manage all that. Give me the
letter, and now consider me on my way
to the giant's castle.”
The letter was handed to James, and
they parted. Lesley returned to Chal-
lenor, and apologized for his temporary
absence. The manner of the youthful
poet had attracted Challoner's attention,
and he expressed some curiosity respect-
ing him, mingled with warm approbation
of his speech and deportment.
Lesley concurred in the eulogium.
“ I know not,” he said, “ the man
whose sentiments and whose actions
would better justify the good opinion you
have conceived. I am largely indebted
to his generosity”
“ Indeed!”
“Toyou I need make no secret ofit;
THE WITCH-FINDER. 161
and I feel assured you will not dis-
approve of his conduct, when I tell you,
that knowing the difficulties with which
I had to contend, in consequence of em-
barrassments growing out of the late
troubles, he has generously lent me
five hundred pounds, and resolutely de-
nied himself the enjoyments which, at
his age, men are apt to prize above
everything, to gain the means of thus
administering to my comfort."
“You shall have double the sum from
me; but pay him to-morrow.“
“My dear Sir, this unlooked-for
bounty overwhelms me, and commands
my eternal gratitude.”
“Talk not thus, Lesley. Eternal gra-
titude for a small loan were too much."
Pardon me Sir, but I must differ from
you : gratitude ought not to terminate
when the benefit is no longer felt, but
ought to survive and remain in full
/
162 THE WITCH-FINDER.
force for ever, as the interest fairly ac-
cruing on a good action.”
“ No more of this: but tell me,
is not this young gentleman considered
the future husband of your lovely
Sister?”
“I beg to assure you I have encour-
aged no such idea.”
“ Though good in other respects, is
there anything that would make you ob-
ject to him as a brother?"
“Nothing."
“Why then do you seem to consider
it necessary to protect yourself from the
suspicion of having countenanced his
passion? That he loves Celia, if I can
read the expression of a human face, there
is no doubt.”
“My only reason for so expressing my-
self was to guard against being lowered
in your opinion.” «
THE WITCH-FINDER. 163
“ In my opinion!” exclaimed Chal-
Ioner with astonishment.
“ Even so; for I knew not what your
views might be, and was therefore anx-
ious not to cherish expectations which
you might find it necessary to disap-
point.”
“ I do not comprehend! What wish
or what right can I have to interfere in
the affairs of a young gentleman of whom
I know nothing?" *-«.
K“ I am now astonished in my turn.
Know you not by whom you were asr
sisted ?”
“To the best of my recollection I had
never seen him before.” «
“Can it be possible? I deemed that
you had recognised him while riding with
my sister, and that he had been your
guide before the accident.” 3.
“It was not so." -
“ And,” enquired Lesley, “ are you
164 THE WITCH-FINDER.
really up to this moment uninformed that
the object of your warm commendation is
no other than – than the boy 2"
“Than the boy! – what boy?– what
is it you mean?”
“Than the boy whose life you saved
many years ago, and whom your bounty
has protected even till now.”
“Amazement! – Have I then seen
him P” "
“How do I regret that you did not
know him sooner! But, late as it is, I
will send to recall him.”
“ No, Lesley.”
“ There is a horse saddled. – Albert
will deem it notoil to come, evenat mid-
night to greet his benefactor.”
“Hold Lesley; you err in this. Cir-
cumstances press me not for details,
make me anything but solicitous to see
him again.” º, v.
THE WITCH-FINDER, 165
“ I surmised that you had returned
mainly for that purpose.”
“ But such is not the fact; and now
that I know who he is, I certainly
regard him as no fit match for your
sister.”
“ Indeed! This is what I always
feared, but had still hopes that their love
might meet with your approval. Though
our family is fallen from affluence, it is
not dishonoured: and, forgive the free-
dom I use, I had thought your ancient
friendship for the Lesleys might induce
you to pardon the ambitious thought
which looked up to an alliance with one
so near and dear to you, as I doubt not,
Albert is.” -
“You are wholly mistaken, if you sup-
pose me to reprehend any aspiring on
your part. The truth is – but I wish to
abstain from going into particulars, – he
is not of parentage that can entitle him
166 THE WITCH-FINDER.
to marry into an ancient family like
your's.” -
“ Nay Sir; such distinctions Iam well
content to overlook. I could not regard
it as any disparagement to my family to
see Celia the wife of one so generous as
Albert has proved himself. The pride
which would spurn worth, because it
chanced to be unconnected with family-
honours, I have not learned to respect.
If, then, 9 9
“ Lesley, no more. On this subject I
can say nothing but that the young man
shall not suffer for his generosity. But
this I pray you, bring him not, at any
time, where I maybe. A crowd ofafflict-
ing recollections come over me. Robert,
attend me.” - -
Robert assisted his master to a cham-
ber which had been provided for him, and
immediately returned.
“ Your master,” said Lesley, as the
THE WITCH-FINDER. 167
man was about to retire, “ is an extraor-
dinary character.”
This Robert had no objection to admit.
“ Did you hear our conversation just
noW P” #
“ Not I. What, did you think me
such a rogue as to turn spy upon my
master and you ?”
“No, my friend; far from thinking you
a rogue, I consider your plain blunt
manner of speaking a sure indication of
honesty.”
“There you make a blunder. A
man may be rude, and yet a great
knave.” ).
“That is true, but still I respect one
who speaks his mind.” »
“ Nay, that is but small merit in any
case: but in many instances minds are so
little worthy of being spoken, that silence
were better.” H-
168 THE WITCH-FINDER.
“ Your ideas are very correct, and do
you honour.”
“ Do they? I am glad to hear it.
There are very few who can find that
out, though I hope they do not much
misbecome my low birth and humble
station.” A
“The plain truth I honour in any
one, be his birth and station what they
may. These, as we cannot choose them
for ourselves, ought in no case to be the
subjects of scorn and reproach.” 4.
“Well, I think you are right there,"
said Robert, in a tone which he meant
should be rather complimentary.
“ I am glad that I have said something
at last with which you can agree; because
when you say you can approve, I know
you speak sincerely; and this accounts
for the value which your master sets upon
you, of which I have heard.”
“ I never heard that he had set a value
THE WITCH-FINDER. 169
on me before. What does he mean to
appraise me then, like a pigorajackass?"
“ I mean that he much esteems your
probity and attachment.” -
“He has more sense than to do any
thing of the kind. My probity survives
he doubtless concludes from its being
little in the way of temptation, and my
attachment to him, he has a right to sup-
pose, marks but a resolution to be faith-
ful to my own bread and butter.”
“ He is most generous. He very un-
pectedly made me a most liberal offer
this evening."
* Did he P” l 1,
“ He offered me the loan ofg thousand
pounds.”
“ Poor gentleman! he sometimes for-
gets himself and does things that make
people who don't know him twit him a
good deal." -
VOL. I. I
170 THE WITCH-FINDER.
“ Really! Why, what could they say
in a case like this?"
“I can't undertake to guess half of
what would be said. They will, perhaps,
begin with the old proverb.”
“What proverb?"
“ Fools and their money are soon
parted.”
“ I should hope no one would use such
rudeness towards him.”
“ Well, I wonder at that now,” Robert
replied somewhat hastily, “ since you
are so fond of the plain truth.”
“Go on,” said Lesley; “ that is a
well-imagined pleasantry. – But, my
good Robert, what I wished to ask you
was this, – You – you do not consider
Mr. Challoner likely to forget what he
has promised to-night ?"
“ Why, you don't think he was drunk,
do you?"
THE WITCH-FINDER. 171
“ By no means.”
“Then do you think being sober, he
would tell you a lie?“
“Certainly not; I say he is not likely
to forget.”
“ Ay, but you mean to ask,–Is there
not great danger that he will ?”
“ Nay, you put a forced construction
on my words.”
“ So I do, for the construction I put
on them is forced on me; and you are
partial to the plain truth.”
“ Well well my good fellow, to cut
the matter short, what I was about to say
was this, – if in the hurry of preparing
for his departure this business should
chance to slip his memory, do you re-
mind him of it, and you shall have
something for your trouble.”
“O, very well; but he won't think of
asking if you talked with me. If he does,
172 THE WITCH-FINDER.
he shall be told of his promise, you may
depend.” «
“ Your bearing this in mind shall be
duly requited my honest friend.”
“As for that Master Lesley, I am
not anxious to deserve or to receive
reward from any but my master, but
for so small a kindness as telling him
that you hope, when he talked oflend-
ing you money, he was not amusing
himself at your expence, (of which, per-
chance there was little prospect,) and
therefore desired to have his memory
jogged ; it shall be done without scru-
ple
“ But with all decorum.”
“ Decorum ! Do you mean to call
my breeding in question?"
“ No, I was only afraid my good fe-
low, that I – that you would perhaps,
accidentally in some measure misre-
9 9
H
present.”
THE WITCH-FINDER. 173
“Never fear me; I will be most care-
ful not to wander from the plain truth,
while telling you hope he will not have
the meanness to depart in the morning
from what he promised at night."
174 THE WITCH-FINDER.
CHAP. VIII.
“What, like a corse?"
“ No, like a bank for love to lie and play on;
Not like a corse ; or if – not to be buried.”
SHAksPEARF.
JAMEs and Green hastened to Enfield,
and were admitted into Johnson's house.
A servant brought a candle to light
them into an apartment, and offered to
take the letter to his master and bring
3UI1 21.SWET. ".
“ Bring your master,” cried James,
eyeing the man curiously, as if endea-
vouring to recall where he had seen him
before. - v
* You stared at that fellow,” said
Green, when the man had left the room,
“ as if you were determined to know
him again when you meet.“
THE WITCH-FINDER- 175
“The truth is, I already know him.
This is no other than that poor devil
who some time ago tried to pass himself
offfor– but stay, I thought I heard him
coming.”
They listened, but the man did not
immediately approach.
“This fellow,” said James, “took it
into his head to pretend that he was no
other than – you will remember him
directly– that he was no other than our
Saviour.”
“ Is it the same man ?”
Here the man reappeared to report
that his master would soon attend
them. -
“Stay,” cried James; “ who are
you?"
The party thus questioned stared, bu
made no reply. •
“If I am not mistaken,“ James pro-
ceeded, “ your name is Jemmy Naylor.
I 4
176 THE WITCH-FINDER.
Let me look at your frontispiece a
little.”
While he spoke, he parted the hair of
the man which had been combed straight
down over his forehead, and discovered
the letter B branded thereon.
“I thought I was right,” said James;
“you are no other than the hopeful James
Naylor.” «
“ Thou hast said it,” replied the
man.
“Why, that is your old answer. Well
I am glad to see you look pretty well
after your troubles; they gave you,
I remember, a tightish job of it. First
two hours in the pillory at Westmin-
ster, a flogging thence to the Old Ex-
change by the hands of the common
hangman, next two hours more in the
pillory, and then I believe they bored
your tongue through with a redhot
iron.” -
THE WITCH-FINDER. 177
** Thou hast said it.”
“I suppose you began them to wish
you had kept your tongue within your
teeth. After that the letter Bwas stamped
on your forehead; that was not to signif
blockhead, I suppose ?” -
“ Thou hast said it.”
“ Then you were packed off to Bristol,
where you had a ride on a horse bare-
backed, with your face to the tail, then
another flanking in the market-place,
after which you were indulged with a
return to London, to enjoy hard labour,
solitary confinement, and starvation in
Bridewell.”
“ Thou hast said it.”
“ And these gentle means are re-
ported to have wholly cured your for-
mer freaks, and they say you no longer
engage to heal the sick, to raise the
dead, or to fast forty days, but are
I 5 -
178 THE WITCH-FINDER.
content to take the wages of a master
who wants other services from you.” t
“ Thou hast said it,” said Naylor,
who did not enjoy the recollections
which James had applied himself to
awaken, and whose resentment would
give no other answer than that which
had been his favourite response in the
day of his extraordinary imposture.
“ And is that all you can say?” cried
James. “ Am I to understand that your
words are thus few, because you deem
short answers best for fools?"
“ Thou hast said it,” repeated Nay-
lor, and he left the room. -
“ Well,” said James, “I expected to
meet with some extraordinary appari-
tion or goblin within these walls, and am
not disappointèd since I have stumbled
on this Naylor. We shall now see old
Iron:face himself. Lesley cautioned me
not to let you speak too much of plays,
THE WITCH-FINDER. 179
but I am not disposed to be very nice in
such matters, and have a great mind to
stir up the old round-head. Hush! –
here he is.” r 8.
Johnson made his appearance. He
glanced at both, as he entered, with
an air of mistrust.
“Are you,” said he to James, “ the
person mentioned by Mr. Lesley in this
paper as his friend?” . . "
“The very same ; and I am able to in-
form you, from the evidence of my own
sight, that the company which prevent
him from seeing you to-morrow arrived
quite unexpectedly. It was indeed
quite a matter of chance, that I proposed
to my friend Challoner to meet me at
Lesley's.”
“To whom did you propose a meeting
there?” 23.
“"To Challoner, a very near friend of
mine, on my father's side.”

I 6
180 THE WITCH-FINDER.
“ Oh! – Challoner!“ " -
“ No, not O'Challoner. He has been
in Ireland, and may be a native for any
thing that I know; but there is no O
before the name.” « -
“Well, Sir, Mr. Lesley desires that I
shall entertain you. I am ill provided,
but such fare as I can produce, with to-
lerable lodging, shall be yours. Come
this way."
Johnson then took the light and walked
before his visitors. He crossed the hall,
and passed through a long gallery, at the
extremity of which turning into a pas-
sage, he opened the door of an apartment
in which there was a fire, and such fur-
miture as indicated the room to be in
COY11Y1OIl U1SG. » . . . “
“Now Sirs,” he cried, “you shall
have such food as remains from our last
repast." * *x
se
THE WITCH-FINDER. 181
While speaking, James Naylor and
another domestic entered with part of a
haunch of mutton, a flitch of bacon, wime
and other refreshments.
“The keen air of the Chase has given
me an appetite,” cried James, “ and I
will eat. So I doubt not, will my worthy
companion. He, it should have been
known to your worship, is no other than
the hopeful Tom Green, the Tatterer of
Passions.” -
Johnson had seated himself and his
thoughts seemed to be occupied by any
thing but the scene immediately before
him. The manner in which he was
addressed awakened his attention. That
he did not comprehend the speech of his
guest, he ascribed to his own abstraction,
and with some embarrassment enquired
what had been said. -
“I thought,” said James, “ my de-
scription would have been sufficiently

182 THE WITCH-FINDER-
explicit. I pronounced Tom to be a
Tatterer of Passions.”
“ I know not the meaning of your
phrase.” -
“Why, then, I would say, Tom is –
no, he was, for now, alas! “ Othello's
occupation's gone," he was an actor.”
“ An actor ! Have I then a play-actor
under my roof?”
“Under your roof! Why, to be sure
you have. You would not have him
above it would you ? That might suit
your tom cat, rather than my Tom
Green.”
“ I wish no offence to the messengers
of Master Lesley, but I expected not
that one of them would be of such
quality.”
“How should you ? you are no lord,
and could not hope that Tom would hie
hither, when he might go to Holland
House and be protected. But being here
THE wITCH-FINDER. 183
he shall amuse you. Would you like
a song? Tom will sing. He has a
pretty voice, which shall give you an
idea, if you like the plaintive, of a wag-
gon-wheel that has wanted grease for
a week.”
“This may be meet entertainment for
some,” -
“ To be sure it may; but as we have
now supped, it shall be after-meat enter-
tainment for you.” -
“ My ideas,” said Johnson, “ were
formed in other days; and such delights
I covet not.”
“ But they are now fast becoming
the mode. Davenant only wishes he
had the same assurance that his nose
will return, as he has that plays must
be restored. Already has he got up a
sort of tragi-comical matter, with scenic
pictures. Now Lowen, old Jack Lowen,
whose ideas, though not like yours, are
184 THE WITCH-FINDER.
of the old sort, declares, to give pictures
which are to tell the spectators where
the scene lies, will never succeed. For
why, he argues, images of all places can-
not be had, and to make what portrays
Venice one night stand for Malta on the
next, will only breed confusion, which
never could arise if the ancient mode
were adhered to, that of simply writing
up, “ This is the island of Malta,' or
“The city of Venice," when the action
shall be supposed to lie there.”
“To me this seems to boot but little.
With or without the pictures, he who
would be so beguiled of his time, can
be cozened to his heart's content and
soul's despair.”
“ Nay, worthy Sir, you seem to take
up the hatred of old Heath for all drama-
tic doings: he forsooth, says of him who
*. * Comes in on the stage,
Rapt, as it were, with an unwieldy rage,
THE WITCH-FINDER 185
He, I say, cries,–
* Fie on this mimic skill.” ”
“ Nor do I marvel at it.”
“ I hope you favour not this view of
the theatre," said James, “ for that would
much disturb Tom Green, who is ever-
more rehearsing with rapture the words
of Nick Breton:– -
“ I would I were a player, and could act
As many parts as came upon a stage,
And in my braine could make a full compact
Of all that passeth betwixt youth and age.'”
Johnson looked displeased, but made
no remark. "-
“ Now,” James proceeded, “ I would
not be such, inasmuch as, still quoting
from the same –
* I do fear
If I should gall some goosecap with my speech,
That he wouldfreat, and fume, and chafe, and swear,
As if some flea had bit him by the –.'" -
“You need not thus fatigueyourself"
Johnson interrupted, “ to repeat verses
186 THE wITCH-FINDER.
to me. I wish not to hear of what may
concern the garish apparel, masques,
vaulting, tumbling, hobby-horses, and
juggling castes.”
“ Why now my grave Sir, you are al-
most quoting Stephen Gosson. Next
you will say with Eusebius, that we
only find at a theatre“ diabolical songs
and dancing wenches, or rather girls
tossed up and down with the furies of the
devil;” adding of course, in the words of
Prynne, “ these things are done by her
whom the devil has possessed.” ”
“ I have no thought to spend on such
themes; but this I would remark, that
once, as godly Master Rainolds tells, not
even for safeguard of his life would a
man undergo the shame of wearing wo-
man's attire; yet now, so common is the
practice, that you speak of boys thus
dressed, as if they were true females.”
“ Not so; I but refer to what split-
THE WITCH-FINDER, 187
nosed Prynne tells. But women, let me
inform you, will soon become actors in
common with men. Soom shall the stage
recover all that it has lost. Already
are we preparing new limbs for Aaron
the Moor, party-coloured hose for the
clown, the image of a rock, and a
lively picture of Hell-mouth, for”–
“ Ofwhat?" demanded Johnson ; and
the sullen contempt and louring displea-
sure which had till now sat on his coum-
tenance, suddenly gave place to a vivid s
expression of horror, of wrath, or of both
combined.
** You seem moved.”
“The villanous abominations of which
you speak are well fitted to move any
one.”
“ In former times, what I last men-
tioned was as common as “ cloth for the
sun and moon,” “ wings for Mercury,”
188 THE WITCH-FHNIDER.
or a “sign for Mother Redcap;” and in
the most pious moralities what was bet-
ter known than “ Adam moritur et transit
ad infernum pro uno pomo ?” ”
“On such moralities,” said Johnson,
“ you and your friend may descant in my
absence.” -
“ Never leave us so, nor think that
plays are henceforth to be other than
moral. I will read what shall please you,
but that it is so short, which will ap-
pear to you a lesson not unfit for the
pulpit.”
“ I am called hence. Your chamber
shall be shown to you.”
“ Ipray you listen. It shall not de-
tain you for a moment,” said James; and
Johnson, who had risen to go, subdued
the emotion which he had manifested,
and resumed his seat.
James then read the following stan-
Z3S -
THE WITCH-FINDER. 189
THE SPARROW AND THE BI„OSSOM.
“Sweetly smiled the bloom of spring,
When a sparrow on the wing
Saw, and flattered, and admired,
Vowed his eye could ne'er grow tired;
And, to consummate his bliss,
Asked but one- one modestkiss.
“ Ne'er suspecting guile might woo,
Say what could a blossom do?
With a blush his suit she granted,
Gave the felon all he wanted;
But his kiss occasioned smart,
For he pecked away her heart.”
Agroan from Johnson attracted the
notice of James, who, however, went
Oll.
“ Then the sparrow laughed outright,
As a human spoiler might,
Havingmarred his beauteous prey;
While consigned to swift decay
The flower, how joyed the feathered brute
To know destroyed the promised fruit!"
As James repeated the last lines, John-
son dropped his head on his hand, and
190 THE WITCH-FINDER.
covered his eyes. He sighed deeply,
then starting from his seat, he glanced
with indignant suspicion at his company,
to observe if they noticed his altered
deportment. He spoke not; but, with a
slight farewell motion of thehand, hurried
out of the room.
Naylor came shortly afterwards to con-
duct them to their chambers. These were
immediately over the room in which they
had supped.
“ Pray Mr. Jemmy,” said James, as
they passed upstairs, “ have you no fe-
males in this establishment? You have
not such a thing as a wife or a sister,
have you, with whom I could condole on
the scarification of your back and visage,
and the boring of your tongue ?"»
“If I had either,” cried Naylor, indig-
nant at this question, “ she should not
be forthcoming at your call. You think
me an ass.”
THE WITCH-FINDER. 191
“ Thou hast said it,” James replied,
mimicking his manner. “ By the bye,
since you have found your tongue, may
I take the liberty to ask if, when you
undertook to fast for forty days, you
proposed to fast through forty nights as
Well ???
Naylor retired without satisfying the
enquirer, who now addressed himself to
Green on the characters of the master
and man whom they had seen. The
chambers in which they were to sleep
communicated with each other by a cen-
tre door. Green soon took possession
of his bed, but James continued the
conversation for some time, walking
backwards and forwards through the
two rooms.
“ Well,“ - aidhe, after a somewhat length-
ened comment on what he had remarked,
“I am glad to have seen so much of this
place and its inmates, but I do not like
192 THE WITCH-FINDER.
the idea of retiring without knowing
something of the female part of the es-
tablishment. Everything is quite still;
get up, and walk with me through
these rambling apartments in quest of
adventures.”
“ Not I; the old one will meet you
and think you are looking after his daugh-
ter or mistress.” *
“ Well, that will hardly ruffle him
more than my lauding play-acting did.
But if you won't come, I will go alone.”
“ Do so,” said the player; “ only if
you happen to get your neck broken,
never disturb me to tell me of it.”
James took the candle and left the
chamber. He found himself in a long
passage, into which came the doors of a
suite of apartments which were over the
gallery through which he had been con-
ducted by Johnson. This terminated in
a spacious hall or landing-place, to which
3
THE WITCH-FINDER. 193
another and the principal staircase led.
He was now in the centre of the building.
A passage like the one which he had
traversed appeared on the other side ;
and towards this, he directed his steps.
He paused and listened at each door
he found closed, and entered several
chambers which had been left open. He
was in one of these when he heard a
female voice. It came from the extrem-
ity of the passage. He walked that way,
and the sound was repeated. At first,
he suspected that robbers had penetrated
the building, for the cry was one of dis-
tress, and he sprang forward with the
intention of entering the chamber from
which it came. He was arrested by
hearing the voice of Johnson, which de-
manded P
“Why that vain shriek ?"
“ Father, no more,” was the reply;
“ I have suffered enough.”
VOL. I. K
194 THE WITCH-FINDER.
“ Enough!” he sternly rejoined;
“ no, never can you suffer enough. No
common pain can expiate the baseness
of that rebel blood which has thus turned
against the source from which it flowed.”
“ And is it but common pain which
is inflicted, while I am doomed to endure
yon appalling sight?”
“ What!” cried the father, “ is the
baleful brightness which once gleamed
from those eyes in lustful mirth wanting ?
Is the warm glow of the lascivious
tempter no more? Are these the things, »
the absence of which shock thy startled
senses ?” - « .
“Oh, spare me!”
“Why ask that I shall spare you, see-
ing you would not spare yourself? And
thou, pale wretch," he cried, seeming to
apostrophise a third person, “where now
istheinsulting glee, with which those fea-
tures lately exulted in having converted
THE WITCH-FINDER. 195
my confidence into a crime, and made in-
dulgence the unfailing source of infamy ?
Where is the scorn which refused the sul-
lied toy, once the brightest object to
which aspiring hope could point? Wilt
thou again reject her? Mock her now!”
“ In mercy forbear. Spare me this,”
the female wildly implored, “ and I will
welcome any other punishment. Scorn
me – crush me – annihilate me, if
such your pleasure, but let the dead
repose.” «>. .
The speech ofJohnsonwasagain heard;
but at that moment James perceived
another light flash in the passage. He
extinguished his own; and had scarcely
done so, when he saw Naylor enter the
chamber next the landing. He imme-
diately came out of it, with the air of a
man who, on a sudden, recollected some-
thing that had been omitted, and de-
scended the great staircase. James took
K- 2
196 THE WITCH-FIN DER.
this opportunity of retreating. From his
own room he watched, till Naylor had
again retired. He then retraced his
steps, but heard no more of Johnson.
James slept little that night, and when
he rose in the morning, while endeavour-
ing to resume his usual gaiety with Green
as they rode towards Islington, he was
often wholly lost in thought. The care-
less company in which he soon found
himself dispelled much of the gloom;
but he often recalled with wonder,
mingled with indescribable awe, the last
solemn prayer of the unseen female, “Let
the dead repose.”
TIE WITCH-FINDER. 197
CHAP. IX.
'Tis often seen
Adoption strives with nature; and choice breeds
A native slip to us from foreign seeds.
SHAKsPEARE.
The good offices of Robert, which Les-
ley had been so anxious to secure, were
not necessary. When Challomer pro-
mised, he meant to perform; and his
memory was too retentive to forget a
matter which he knew must be regarded
by another as of no small importance.
Overwhelmed with joy by this circum-
stance, Lesley lost no time in seeking
Robert. His anxiety to see that person
sprung not from gratitude for any ser-
vice which he could suppose Robert had
been able to render him, nor from admir-
ation of the frankness which, on the
K 3
198 THE WITCH-FINDER.
preceding night he had declared to be
so much to his taste. Aless amiable
motive made him desirous of seeming
liberal. He was fearful that the hint
which he had suggested, might now be
given when it was not only not wanted,
but when it might by chance disclose
his eagerness to avail himself of the prof-
fered aid which he deemed it by no
means incompatible with his future wel-
fare, so far as Challoner was concerned,
too keep out of sight. «
“ My good friend,” he exclaimed,
“ here are the five pounds I promised
you.”
“ I don't want them,” was the answer.
“ Besides, I have not spoken yet.”
“ I am aware of that, but –”
“You think I am as likely to forget
my promise to speak, as you yesterday
judged my master was to forget his to
lend, and so would bribe me to humbug
him.”
THE WITCH-FINDER, 199
“ Methinks, Robert, this coarseness
might be spared. I know you mean
well, but you will perceive that you have
been wrong, when I tell you that your
kind aid is unnecessary.”
“ Indeed! Faith, I am glad of it. I
am very glad that your ragged fortunes
have been patched up some other way.”
“They have not however been mend-
ed in any other way, than that which I
yesterday contemplated; but Mr. Chal-
loner has advanced me the sum which
Imamed last night.”
“ He has, has he?”
** He has.” v.
“Now my master is thought, by many
people, a sensible gentleman; and yet,
see how easy it is to fleece him."
“What do you mean, Robert?” en-
quired Lesley. “ Your speech is affront-
ing, and you are apparently cast down
« K 4
200 THE WITCH-FINDER.
by the self-same circumstance, which
before gave you pleasure.” I
“ Why, the truth is, I thought you had
got money from somebody else, and was
in hopes that, for this time, my master
had got out of your clutches.”
“ Well, we need say no more about it.
Here is your five pounds.” .
“What for? I have done nothing
for you, and you are no friend of
mine.” «- -
“ But I may be hereafter; so take the
money as earnest. Now, of course, I do
not wish you to say any thing on the
subject to my friend Challoner, – do you
mind me – not a word – you under-
stand – ” »
“O, very well. The money you of
fered last night to make me speak, you
are willing to give to buy my silence
to-day. I don't care to be a tell-tale;
so I shan't expose you. The money I'll
THE WITCH-FINDER. 2() I
take, as part payment of the thousand
pounds you have got out of this unfor-
tunate master of mine, and put it out at
interest for him, that when he comes to
want, he shall find it is not all lost.
Therefore, Master Lesley, you will please
to take it into account; and if ever you
are ready to pay nine hundred and
ninety-five pounds, you may call on me
for what I now take, to make up the
whole sum due to my master.”
He received the money without any
expression of satisfaction or gratitude.
“You are a diamond,” said Lesley,
“ still in the rough, it is true, but a pro-
digious treasure; in short, you are –”
Here Robert modestly retired from the
praises of which he was the subject; and
Lesley finished his sentence as he felt,
perhaps, but not exactly as he had in-
tended to finish it, if the subject of it
K 5
202 THE WITCH-FINDER.
had remained within hearing, by adding
the words, “ a most impudent rascal.”
Challoner took leave of Lesley. He
was anxious to reach London that day.
The relations of the female, whose con-
duct and whose fate he had so deeply
lamented, Sophia, to whom he con-
sidered himself largely indebted for kind
attention when he most needed it, was
dangerously ill. She had beeome the
wife, and eventually the widow, of
Sir Joseph Maitland, and in both cha-
racters had corresponded with Challoner,
though years had now passed since
they met. Obedient to her earnest
call, he purposed hastening to her. He
had parted from Lesley, and was leaving
the house, when Albert passed, uncon-
scious that he was observed. Challoner
wished to avoid him, and was not sorry
that the young man's attention was too
much engrossed by an object which
THE WITCH-FINDER. 203
appeared at one of the windows, to see
anything else. A few steps further
on, Robert dismounted to pick up a
small book, which appeared to have been
just dropped. It consisted of poetical
trifles. Challoner doubted not, from the
manner in which the name of Celia was
celebrated, that these belonged to Albert,
and could not resist the temptation to
know more of the thoughts and of the
abilities of the youth. He turned over
the pages with melancholy interest, and
in the ardent glow of passion which
he remarked, traced feelings which had
once brightened his own existence with
the fairest dreams of hope, only to in-
troduce heart-rending anguish and pro-
found despair. The impassioned love
there expressed was, so he judged, not
to be cured, and he lamented that it had
not been inspired for some other object.
Though humanity had prompted him
K 6
204 THE WITCH-FINDER.
to snatch from death the offspring of
that perfidy, which had destroyed his
peace; though, without pain, he could
not thwart the wishes of one whom
he believed to be estimable, yet with
the knowledge which he had of Albert's
origin, he could not sanction his union
with the daughter of his deceased friend
Lesley.
It was in vain that he sought to
persuade himself the child of Emma
could have no share in her falsehood.
Having snatched Albert from destruc-
tion, and preserved him from want, hie
did not feel that the claims of humanity
extended still further, and required of
him to place the object of his former
care in the family of an old friend, where
he must frequently meet with that pre-
sence, which could not but revive in
him the fullest recollection of blasted
hopes and bitter disappointment.
THE WITCH-FINDER, 205
He frequently opened the book and
read, paused, affected by what he saw,
and seemed unable to proceed. Then
he looked at the manuscript again, as if
to divert his present thoughts by turning
to the source from which they immedi-
ately sprung. Sometimes he commented
on them aloud: – “This is truth“ –
“This is real feeling” – “This, indeed,
is what love ought to be.” The last ob-
servation was elicited by the following
lines: – --
Though some by coldness may be moved,
I, follow but by smiles allured;
Would give an empire to be loved,
But, not a thought to be endured.
For love, where felt its genuine glow,
With fond devotion lives
Less on the transports it may know,
Than on the bliss it gives.
He continued to read and muse till
he arrived in London. There, on re-
pairing to Lady Maitland's house in Hol-
206 THE WITCH-FINDER.
born, he found that, at the commence-
ment of her present illness, she had been
prevailed upon to take up her residence
in the neighbourhood of Hounslow. He
regretted that he had not been sooner
informed of this change, but prepared to
set forward towards her ladyship's new
residence, when he heard himself ac-
costed by name, and looking round, per-
ceived Albert, who thus accosted him:–
“I cannot but express my regret, Sir,
that I have not been more on the alert
to execute a task which I consented
should be imposed upon me.”
Surprised at this address, Challoner
eyed the youth somewhat Suspiciously.
An idea crossed his mind, that Albert
had been informed of what he had de-
sired should be concealed from him. He
looked on him, however, but for a mo-
ment, and, turning aside, falteringly
enquired,
THE WITCH-FINDER, 207
“What would you, Sir?"
“ James Thorpe,” he replied, “ being
at Islington, and withal somewhat fati-
gued by previous exertion, coveted much
to see you. An aged person, once known
to you passing well, had fallen in his
way, whom he doubted not you would
be much gratified to meet. Therefore,
he wished that you should be informed
of the same while yet you rested at
the house of Mr. Lesley, in order that,
without deviating from the road you
designed to pursue, opportunity might
be afforded for seeing the party of whom
I spoke.” «--
“ Indeed! This intelligence comes
rather late, young man.”
“I confess the fault to be mine. Well
content to be the bearer of a message to
one, whose – whose –”
“Whose what?” demanded Challo-
ner, unwilling to give time for a speech
208 THE WITCH-FINDER.
to be framed, other than that which had
seemed on the point of being uttered.
“ Whose deportment and sentiments,
brief as my acquaintance has been with
them, inspired esteem.”
“ Your readiness to bear a message to
me at Hornsey, perhaps, originated in
your being glad of an opportunity to see
the sister of Mr. Lesley.”
Albert looked embarrassed, and felt as
he looked. *
“ I cannot deny,” he said, “that seek-
ing for one moment to speak with her, I
lost my chance of meeting with you,
and I was then so long detained by her
brother, that the best exertions I could
use, failed to enable me to overtake you
sooner.”
“Then I must presume you enjoyed a
long interview with the lady."
“ Not so. With her I have not
delayed ; but her brother unexpectedly
THE WITCH-FINDER. 209
claimed my attention. I was not aware
of your early departure; and through
him it was that I could not acquit myself
of the message which I had to deliver,
till now.” -
“I can ill spare time,” said Challoner,
“ even for the space which will be occu-
pied by my return across the fields to
Islington.”
“It gives me pain to know that I am
the cause of your being subjected to
needless toil, but I shall have much sa-
tisfaction in being your guide.”
Challoner turned his horse, and took
the way to Islington. The modest, but
manly carriage of Albert won his admir-
ation, but the thoughts which made him
previously wish that he should cease
to pursue Celia Lesley, recurred to
him, and he judged it might be well to
admonish him on that subject. Making
210 THE WITCH-FINDER.
an effort to subdue the strong emotion
which he felt, Challoner said, –
“ You will, perhaps, consider that I
take a reprehensible liberty, young gen-
tleman, if I venture any remark or spe-
culation on your conduct or views; but
I am tempted to say, and I have a reason
for doing so, that I am much mistaken
if you are not Miss Lesley’s lover.”
“If to admire be to love, then am I
her lover.”
“ Admiration may exist without love,
but they are generally companions in a
youthful heart, where beauty is con-
cerned.” •
“And I think a fairer justification
of their union need not be sought, than
may be found in Celia Lesley.”
“That is a question oftaste, in which
I confess I should be reluctant to oppose
you. You not only love, but are beloved,
I suspect."
THE WITCH-FINDER. 211
sº If I might hope it, I would not be
SO arrogant as to assert it.”
“ Nay, but I am much deceived if you
have not asserted it.”
« Sir!”
“You have asserted it by pursuing her,
so I am informed, for months.”
“ But it is possible to follow even with-
out hope.”
“True, young gentleman; but I believe
I have it under your own hand that
you –
* follow but by smiles allured? yy
Albert recognised his own words with
surprise. Challoner explained how they
had become known to him by presenting
him with the book. - -
** Allow me,” said Challoner, “ to
caution you against surrendering your
heart to the dangerous passion. For
him who loves, there are calamities in
212 THE WITCH-FIN DER.
store of which you dream not; and
there may be circumstances peculiar to
your situation which will for ever oppose
your union with Celia Lesley.”
Albert seemed affected, but endea-
voured to resume his composure, while
he replied, –
“This I have feared, yet I have not
been without hope that the kind unknown
to whom I stand so largely indebted,
might approve my choice, and his sanc-
tion would, I have fondly pursuaded
myself, leave but few difficulties to be
overcome.”
“ Of whom do you speak ?”
“ Of one whose name I have never
heard; and to which conjecture cannot
point. It is his pleasure to remain un-
known." ". ...» «-
“That you can only ascribe to a
churlish, or a proud, or an unsociable
disposition.” -
THE WITCH.FINDER. 213
“ Impatience to know the man to whom
I owe everything, never yet so forgot
the duty of humble gratitude as to sug-
gest aught so injurious.”
“What cause do you judge he can
have for acting unlike other men ? who,
to do them justice, are not very shy of
making those who receive aid from them
know to whom they stand indebted.”
“ I have not speculated much on the
subject; but I have imagined, I hope
not irreverently, that it might be his
ambition in some sort to imitate the
Deity, who makes his bounty ever felt
by his creatures, but still is pleased to
remain unseen.“ - - - “
“ Such thoughts should not be in-
dulged.” -
“At other times I have likened him
to the good. heart which incessantly oc-
cupied by cares for the good of others,
is never exposed to the view itself"
214 THE WITCH-FINDER.
“You will perhaps find some other
comparison, when you shall learn what
I think I may venture to announce, for
I am acquainted with some of his dispo-
sitions, that he will never be inclined to
see you connected with the Lesley fa-
mily.” -
“There I trust you wrong him. Bene-
volent as he has proved himself, I can-
not believe that he would refuse the
object of his long-continued bounty the
greatest blessing man could know on
earth, if favouring heaven had ren-
dered nothing but his assent needful to
secure it." . . .
“And if in this he were unkind, would
you not resist his authority ?"
“ Tothwart him in any case would be
affliction. But were he capable of the
strangely inconsistent conduct you have
supposed, the being he has sustained
would lose all value. I know not that
THE WITCH-FINDER. 215
I could so fully recognise his right over
my mind and person, and, more than that,
over the peace of another, as to promise
submission where obedience might seem
unkindness to one most dear, and would
be extremest misery to me.”
The mingled tenderness and resolution
s with which Albert spoke, affected Chal-
loner. He began to review the motives
by which he was actuated.
“ And ought I,” he mentally enquired,
“ ought I to oppose the happiness of two
virtuous beings? What if this young
man be the son of a faithless –” but
here reflection became too painful for
endurance. He endeavoured to shake
it off; and felt some relief when he
saw his guide stop, and heard the hearty
greeting of James Thorpe, who, now re-
covered from the temporary depression
he had felt, welcomed him to Islington.
216 THE WITCH-FINDER.
CHAP. X.
Lowen in his latter days kept an inn, The Three Pigeons,
at Brentford.
Dialogue on Old Plays and Players.
“WHy, Rhapsody, where have you been
all this time ? Marry, your Pegasus might
have cantered with you to Olympus, and
brought you back again before this.”
It was thus that James accosted Albert,
who briefly mentioned the cause of his
lengthened absence. -
“ And, so,” said he, having heard
the explanation, “after engaging to tell
a gentleman at Hornsey business of mo-
ment claimed his attention on the way
to London, you let him quietly perform
his journey, and then drag him back to
Islington. This is the work of a man of
genius! Now, had I sent any blackguard
THE WITCH-FINDER. 217
stable boy, or empty-headed drawer, the
thing would have been done in a proper
manner. But you, I suppose, were
dreaming of blue eyes, of coral lips, of
golden tresses, and Celia Lesley. You,
like a nymph in detail, give me the tout
ensemble.”
“ Enough of this trifling.”
“ Trifling call you it ? Nay, I speak
but the language of sober reason. You
poets like to nibble at an eyebrow, a
dimple, a finger, or a foot; and the devil
of it is, you in this way get such posses-
sion of the ear, that you finish by carry-
ing the women away altogether. We
old-fashioned admirers of the sex are
treated as the doctors are by the quacks
who daily start up. Formerly one pro-
fessor tackled al complaints, but now
the aurist takes the ear; the oculist, the
eye; the dentist, the tooth; and other
meddlers, different portions of the human
VOL. I. L
218 THE WITCH-FINDER.
subject, till the regulars have hardly a
fragment capable of entertaining a good
pocket-filling disorder left to bless them-
selves with.” i.
“ You forget,” said Albert, “ that you
desired to see Mr. Challoner on matters
of great present moment." »
“That's good! Oh, it shall be merry
in England, now that you undertake to
help out my memory. Pray what became
of your own, good Master Rhapsody,
this morning? Was it destroyed by a
thunderbolt; flown away with by an eagle,
or shipwrecked by the boiling surge of a
stormy ocean on a rugged rock.”
* Your wit seems as troublesome to
you as my poetry can be to me.”
“Never believe it, Rhapsody. You
consider it a fine thing tomuse and sigh;
I hold it to be the privilege of youth to
laugh and be merry." A -
“Then let each take the course which
THE WITCH-FINDER. 219
he prefers. I shall retire to muse per-
haps. You can remain to laugh at your
own good things.” * *
“What, are you going back to Les-
ley’s?" K
“ No, I am hastening to meet a per-
son not unknown to you.”
“ Is it any one for whom I have a
particular regard?”
“ I can hardly answer for that; but
at all events it is one who has a parti-
cular regard for you.” a.
“Oh! that description will apply to
half the sex. Without some better clue,
I can never pretend to guess whom you
are going to see."
“ I am about to meet your father, who
has written to me that he will be in
London this afternoon.” «
“ Here's mischief! Somebody has
been telling him of my gammocks, and
the undutiful old fellow has come up to
L 2
220 THE WITCH-FINDER-
school me for them. Do not let him
know where I am, for I positively will
not admit him to an audience to-day.”
Albert took leave of the party and
retired.
Challoner was not in the mood to be
amused by the trifling of James. He
turned to look after Albert; his unpre-
suming deportment interested him. He
would have exulted at finding the object
of his bountyso worthy of his care, had
it been possible for him to think on this
subject without recalling the event which
had first made the youth dependent on
him. To escape from that miserable
retrospect he addressed himself to
James. V«. » - -
* You have sent for me, young man,
with such pressing instances, that I can-
not but surmise something of importance
has occurred.” +
“ Guess again so please you, my
THE WITCH-FINDER4 221
honoured godfather. Nothing of im-
portance has yet occurred. So now for
your next surmise.” ",
“You say nothing of importance has
yet occurred; am Ithence to gather that
something may now be expected?"
“ I knew a man of your parts could
not fail to hit it. That which you will
gladly hear ofis about to take place.”
“What may it be ?" »
“There is to be a play to-night at the
Red Bull.“
“ But what is the matter of import-
ance to which you desired to draw my
attention?" -
“Why that," James replied, with a
look of mingled surprise and disappoint-
ment at the cold reception given to his
intelligence. Is it nothing that the spi-
rit of loyalty and of common sense has so
far condescended to return to this rebel-
Iious and stupid Old England, that a
L 3
L22 THE WITCH-FINDER.
play is likely to be acted again in Lon-
don, as was common in the good old
times, when that yelping cur, Prynne,
paid the pillory for his standing with his
ears, and carried away a scaried face as
his receipt for the same?”
“ I never concurred in the persecution
of the theatres; but my admiration of
them is not so great that I could sup-
pose, when you entreated me to give
you a meeting on a matter of import-
ance, it was your object but to announce
the coming representation of a stage
play ." » 5 =
“ Now am I grieved that you are
baulked. Trust me, I felt satisfied that
you would hail the disposition to restore
the drama as the harbinger of the res-
toration of monarchy.” -
“ It might be as well that you should
not speculate on what may be the senti-
timents of others in such matters“
THE WITCH-FINDER, 223
Challoner replied, cautiously looking to
observe if any one appeared listening to
this conversation. But he resumed,
“It was farther mentioned to me, that I
should here meet with one whom I must
need desire to see.”
“And so you shall. Walk into the
parlour adjoining, and you will not be
disappointed.”
Challoner entered the appartment to
which he was directed. There he found
the former travelling companion of
James, the player Green, in familiar
conversation with an old man. The
hair of the latter was silvery white, but
his eyebrows were black as jet. Time,
which had extracted the majority of his
teeth, had given a sharp and rather
ludicrous appearance to the lower part
of his face; but his eye was bright and
intelligent, and with his aquiline and
well-proportioned nose, told that his
L 4
224 THE WITCH-FINDER.
countenance had once been any thing
but deficient in dignity and expression.
Green and the old man did not con-
tinue their conversation after Challoner
had entered. The senior rose, bowed,
and looked as if he expected to be re-
cognised. x < < » «
“There,” cried James, “ now have I
not kept my word ? Do you know to
whom I have brought you?“
“ Indeed I do not.”
“ No! Well who would have thought
of that! Years, to be sure, have given the
nose and chin ofthis venerable personage
some facilities for communicating with
each other which they did not always
enjoy; but still enough remains methinks
to enable one of your penetration to
distinguish Jack Lowen.“
“ Lowen!” repeated Challoner, with a
look in which incredulity mingled with
surprise.
THE WITCH-FINDER» 225
* It is even so,” said James, “ this is
the very Jack Lowen, whom you used to
know when the king was on his throne,
and he in his glory. This is he who
first personified Hamlet, and whom, on
that account, people esteemed a curiosity.
You in your young days used to de-
light to look on his acting through a
long afternoon.” -
“ He says right,” Lowen remarked;
“you, if you task your memory Master
Challoner, may remember that folks
used to tell with a double purpose on
their tongue, that I was the first Hamlet,
meaning thereby that I was the best as
well as the first.”
“ But you have deceived me in this,”
cried James, “ so I am advised. Old
Taylor, they say, was the original."
“The character was Taylor's, and he
being more majestical than I, was long
much admired in it. But thus it
L 5 &
226 THE WITCH-FIN JER-
chanced. On the afternoon, whel
“ Hamlet' was first to be done on the
stage, comes down a heavy storm of
rain. The Old Globe was open at the
top, and the rain took us unprepared;
so it was resolved that we should not
act that day. Presently out pops the
sun, and many came to see us. Then
was it determined that the play should
go on. But it so fortuned, that Taylor
was not to be found; he, as it was after-
wards said, had betaken himself to The
Cardinal’s Hat, which, though the stews
had been formally put down, was said to
have outlived the last trumpet. He
alone being away, I knowing the matter,
forthwith it was agreed that I for once
should be the Danish Prince. I had
good applause, and thus it was that
though not of much account then, I
was the first that personated Hamlet;
but Taylor was intended for it and
THE WITCH-FINDER. 227
long played it, very nobly in some scenes,
afterwards.”
“ Now, that you have spoken,” said
Challoner, “I recall something of your
countenance, and am not sorry for
this meeting. I indeed remember some
hours of high gratification, for which I
was indebted to you. It was my delight
in my early days to be about the thea-
tres. I remember you chiefly at the
Globe.” -
“ I was there,” said Lowen, “while my
old friend, Will Shakspeare, was living,
But after his Ghost was for ever laid, I
played at the Curtain. Dick Burbage made
me try a few nights at the Fortune ; but
Dick wanted to have it rather too much
his own way, which would have made
Golden Lane no lane of gold for me, so
after a while I betook me to the Red
Bull in St. John's street, where I re-
L 6
228 THIE WITCH-FINDER.
maied till the Puritans put down all
stage-playing as profame.”
“And that, I suppose, put an end to
your calling.”
“ Not altogether, for though no play
could be publicly done, the nobility and
people of condition were glad oftentimes
to engage us to act at their own homes
brief interludes, scenes from comedies
and tragedies, and whole plays, as well as
this could be managed, their domestics
appearing as some of the persons who
had little to say.” - " . - **
“ But was this profitable?” 9
“At certain times and seasons it was
a tolerable get-penny, but at last it fell
off. People were afraid of being spied
upon by those who deemed it was to
call down the vengeance of God on a
guilty land, to countenance, harbour, or
nourish a poor hungry player."
“This, I fear, was in some measure
THE WITCH-FINDER. 229
occasioned by the folly of divers of the
fraternity, who would swear most vehe-
mently while acting."
“ That was the case about the time
Queen Elizabeth died, and this caused
the law against swearing on the stage.”
“ I did not know,” said Challoner,
“ or have forgotten that such a law was
ever passed.”
“ ’Slife! It was enacted in the third
year of King James. It declared that
if after a time which it named, “ any
person or persons do or shall, in any
stage-play, enterlude, show, &c., jest-
ingly or profanely use the holy name of
God, or of Christ Jesus, or of the Holy
Ghost, or of the Trinity, which are not
to be spoken but with fear and rever-
ence, he or they shall forfeit for every
offence ten pound; the one moiety
thereof to the King's Majesty, his
heirs and successors, the other moiety
23O THE WITCH-FINDER.
thereof to the party that will sue for
the same in any court of Record at
Westminster.” ”
“ Now you recite part of it, I recal
the law. What effect might it pro-
duCe?”
“The effect, by the Lord Harry! was
to bring into common use all the oaths
of Bobadil. Some we adopted for our-
selves, which were thought to sound
well enough, such as 'slife, ’sdeath,
’sblood, and zounds, but even to these,
Sir Henry Herbert objected, and Con-
dell was once informed of for using
“ zounds;
mean no other than “ God's wounds,”
9
and it being considered to
which the prosecutor said was putting
blasphemy in a more portable form for
the readier utterance, he had difficulty
in escaping the fine; and was forced to
make satisfaction to the informer, which
caused him to swear lutily when he
&
THE WITCH-FINDER. 23f
found himself where he might so indulge
without risk.”
“ And what became of you when act-
ing fell off and you had but rarely an
opportunity of exhibiting those talents
which once made you famous, and gave
you wealth ?”
** O! then,” cried James, “ as he had
more teeth than he carries now, and
could not break himself easily of the
vulgar practice of looking for a dinner,
he turned public depredator.”
«« HOW ? ??
“ How! why he set up for an inn-
keeper, and took the Three Pigeons at
Brentford, which he now holds.”
“ 'Bating the waggery, it is true, that
I have so done.”
“ And you were in some degree for-
tunate, to be enabled to do so. Did
your fellows fare equally well?" -
“ Marry, no, Master Challoner. Their
232 THE WITCH-FINDER,
loyalty, as well as their calling, induced
them to side with the King, and some
of them were vilely ill-treated by the
Roundheads.”
“What became of Robinson ? He
was at the Globe, I think.”
“ No, he was merely of Blackfriars.
Poor fellow, he was murdered.”
* Indeed!”
“ Ay, by that blood-thirsty hypocrite,
Harrison. Being overpowered in the
field, he demanded quarter, to entitle
himself to which he grounded his arms.
“ Cursed is he who doth the work of the
Lord negligently,' was the wretch's reply,
and while yet speaking, he fired, and
shot the actor through the head. Those
who survived the civil wars up to the
period of the King's death, endeavoured
to form themselves into a company.
Taylor was then alive; and he, Pollard,
Burt, Hart, and Stevey Hammerton,
THE WTCH-FINDER. 233
who, poor fellow, was the best woman
actor we could get, together with my-
self, exhibited several times at the Cock
Pit, in Drury Lane.”
“ But this was not allowed to go on.”
“O no! after two or three days, a
party of foot soldiers beset the house,
and I dressed as Aubrey, in “the Bloody
Brother,' with Taylor and Pollard in their
stage gear, were all carried prisoners to
Hatton House. There, having bor-,
rowed our finery, they detained us till
we had made submission, and professed
contrition which we never felt.”
Lowen proceeded with the allowable
garrulity of age to narrate a variety of
incidents connected with his profession,
which were not uninteresting to Chal-
loner, from the various scenes which
they restored to his memory. Being
thus engaged, he suffered himself to be
detained longer than he had intended,
234 THE WITCH-FINDER.
and at parting he promised, that he
would again see the old actor before he
left England.
THE WITCH-FINDER. 235
CHAP. XI.
Listen, O floods! black night upon you dwell,
Thick darkness still enwrap you; may you swell
Only with grief! CARTwRIGHT.
The various delays occasioned by the
circumstances already detailed, made it
impossible for Challoner to reach Lady
Maitland so early as he had hoped, and
when at length he found himself at the
door of her residence, he paused erehe
could resolve to enter. As the moment
approached which was once more to
bring before him the being who had
known him in the most blissful, and in
the most miserable crisis of his life, a
thousand recollections came over him
with unwonted force; and though
steeled by habit against manifesting ex-
E36 THE WITCH-FINDER:
traordinary emotion in those situations
which are likely to discompose men most
accustomed to mingle with the world,
his usual tranquillity failed him now.
Lady Maitland while yet unmarried,
and in all the bloom of youth and beauty,
had never lost sight of Challoner, after
those events, which separated him from
Emma. Devotedly as he had loved, and
agonised as he was by that fatal disco-
very which had convinced him of Emma's
baseness, he thought not of seeking con-
solation in the arms of another. So to
act, it seemed to him, would be in some
sort to imitate the fickleness he deplored.
But for this feeling, the charms of So-
phia could hardly have failed to captivate
him. He was not insensible to her great
personal attractions, nor to the kind
cares lavished on him when he most
needed consolation. The former claimed
his admiration, the latter his gratitude;
THE WITCH-FIN DER. 237
their combined force certainly inspired
a more ardent friendship than he could
have felt for any one, not a female, but
a friendship perfectly distinct from love.
He endeavoured to conquer the ir-
resolution which he had felt, and
knocked at the door. The instant it
was opened, he anxiously enquired after
the health of Lady Maitland, not in the
cold matter-of-course way in which en-
quiries are made by those who call on
their sick friends to comply with the
usages of polite society, but with the
breathless eagerness of one whose hopes
and fears, in the highest state of excita-
tion, await with impatient dread the in-
formation they court. He was told that
she was extremely ill, but had that even-
ing insisted on being lifted from her bed,
and was then writing. - z - «:
“Then I must flatter myself that she
is somewhat revived, for I understood
Z38 THE WITCH-FINDER.
she was incapable of sitting up,” was
the comment of Challoner. G
The servant mournfully replied, that
his lady had not risen because her
strength was returning, but in opposition
to the remonstrances of her physician,
and in the persuasion that no exertion
could make her situation more desperate
than it had previously been.
The man was then desired to announce
to his lady that Mr. Challoner had ar-
rived. At that name the servant re-
marked, with an air of satisfaction, that
it was fortunate he had come, as Lady
Maitland had been most impatient to see
hirn, and even when apparently in a dying
state, had frequently expressed deep re-
gret for his continued absence.
As the servant ascended to the cham-
berin which the patientrested, Challoner
was about to follow unbidden. But he
checked his steps, deeming it better to
17
THE WITCH-FINDER. 239
wait for the summons which he doubted
not would promptly follow the announce-
ment of his name.
He deceived himself. For many mi-
nutes he remained alone. A faint
shriek had reached his ear, but he was
not certain that it came from the apart-
ment in which Lady Maitland rested.
It was however past all doubt that a
confused noise, as of persons calling for
each other's aid, accompanied with a
movement offurniture, proceeded thence;
and that his admission, which he had.
looked for the instant after his presence
was signified, had been unaccountably
postponed.
The individual with whom he had
spoken, at length appeared, and reported
that his Lady had continued writing up
to the moment of her being informed
that Mr. Challoner was below, when she
240 THE WITCH-FINDER.
became so faint that they could gain no
answer. It was judged necessary to
carry her to her chamber. But when
this operation had commenced, she or-
dered them topause while certain letters
which she had been writing were con-
signed to the flames, nor would she
consent to return to her bed, till after
witnessing the perfect destruction of the
papers. She now wished to see him.
With solemn step Challoner obeyed
the summons. As he passed into what
had once been the resting-place of a
beauty, whose charms it had been the
pride of fashion to celebrate, reflections
suggested themselves which it would be
no easy task to express. He thought of
the burning ardour, the throbbing im-
patience, the blissful expectation with
which it had formerly been approached;
and contrasted these with the chilling
THE WITCH-FINDER. D41
dread, the deep dismay, and the melan-
choly forebodings which oppressed his
own bosom.
He looked on the bed, and saw its once
lovely occupant pale and motionless.
The ghastly hue of her countenance
heightened the awful sensation pre-
viously created. His eyes were fixed on
hers; he advanced with a recognising
look, but spoke not.
“ Challoner !” the lady faintly ex-
claimed, and her almost lifeless hand,
which rested on the coverlid unclasped,
as if to invite the touch of the visitor.
Hegently took herhand, and, obtaining
afuller view of the dying Sophia retraced
the outline of those features which had
once inspired the fevered glow of passion.
Enough remained to awaken in him a
vivid recollection of what had been, and
he could not but marvel while he noted
VOL. I. MI
242 THE WITCH-FINDER.
how different the aspect she now wore
from any to which he had ever antici-
pated that her countenance could be
brought.
These feelings came over him with
lightening-like rapidity, but he had no
time to embody them in speech, or to
express any thought arising from them,
ere they were dismissed by the effect his
presence produced on Lady Maitland.
On his first approach she made a feeble
effort to rise; but had scarcely half ac-
complished her object, when, with a
convulsive sob, she fell backwards, utter-
ing an exclamation of horror!
Her attendants appeared ; and Chal-
loner deemed it right to withdraw. He
was descending the stairs, when he was
followed by a female, who informed him
that it was the wish of her lady that he
should remain in the adjoining apartment,
THE WITCH-FINDER. S43
as she desired much to speak to him so
soon as she found herself sufficiently col-
lected to make the attempt.
He complied with the request ; re-
turned, and took a seat in the room where
he had been invited to remain. Occa-
sionally he could hear those about the
lady hushing each other in whispers, as
if anxious to preserve the most perfect
silence. Once and once only, a few
distinct sentences were audible. They
expressed but an opinion that the sufferer
was going very fast.
Challoner unconsciously fixed his eyes
on the fire, and was roused from the
reverie into which he had fallen by the
singular appearance of the ashes of the
paper which had just been destroyed.
He saw large flakes trembling from the
agitation of the coal flame near them,
and with some surprise perceived that a
portion of the characters which had been
M 2
244. THE WITCH-FINDER.
traced on the paper were still legible.
The circumstance struck him as uncom-
mon; and to ascertain that he was not
deceived, he looked at what had attracted
his attention more closely. The inspec-
tion satisfied him that he was not in er-
ror, and he plainly saw his own name.
Though little disposed to pry into the
secrets of any one, it did not occur to
him that here he deviated from that
cautious delicacy which he was accus-
tomed to observe. The slender chance
which there was of collecting a single
complete sentence, seemed to preclude
the necessity of imposing any restraint
upon himself What he saw ran thus,
“Before I am numbered with the dead,”
there the flake was broken. Beneath, he
perceived the words, “ since you come not,
I must attempt to unbosom myself by–”
The flake was again defective. One or
two sentences were so imperfect that
THE WITCH-FINDER. 245
he could not read more than a few un-
connected words, but at what had been
the termination of a page he distinctly
saw this apostrophe, “ O! Challoner,
an awful surprise is at hand.”
Extreme amazement came over him
at finding such words which had thus
strangely been brought before his eyes
addressed to himself. The mysterious
manner in which it announced “ an
awful surprise,” made him especially
desirous of knowing what had been
added; and if he for a moment paused to
determine whether he had a right to
examine further, the reflection that the
letter had been prepared for him, as-
sured him that he had. Whatever Lady
Maitland wished to reveal, it was far
from improbable that she would not have
an opportunity of doing it by speech.
A few moments more, and the perishing
fragment on which his eyes rested, must
M 3
246 THE WITCH-FINDER.
cease to exist. If not read instantly, it
would be lost for ever. Urged by these
considerations he hesitated no longer,
but carefully removed the scrap from
the fire. He flattered himself that he
had succeeded, but it was necessary to
turn it in order to reach the sequel, and
this operation, though performed with
the greatest caution, annihilated the frail
TemnaNt.
He looked on the crumbling record
with regret, as sincere as vain. Infi-
nitely embarrassed, he knew not what
conclusion to draw. Lady Maitland had
earnestly desired to see him, had strongly
pressed his coming, and as he had learned
from one of her domestics, had manifest-
ed impatience for his arrival, even under
circumstances which might have been
expected to exclude from her recollec-
tion every friend on earth. He recalled
the anxiety which he had been informed
THE WITCH-FINDER. 247
she had evinced to see the papers de-
stroyed. The agitation with which Lady
Maitland had shrunk from his touch was
also remarkable. Wishing as she did to
communicate with him, some mark of
satisfaction might have been expected,
but for the thrill which had run through
her wasted frame, he was not prepared
to look.
There was one memorable period of
his life which he was accustomed to recall
on every occasion when the past was
named. If aught of importance to him
in former years were mentioned, he ha-
bitually applied himself to connect it
with those days in which he was the
lover of Emma. He could not help
doing so now, but he strove to persuade
himself that this ought not to be. It was
true that the party then summoned to
her account, had lived beneath the same
roof with Emma, but what could she
M 4
248 THE WITCH-FINDER.
have to recount which there had not had
been opportunities for imparting before?
Above all, what “ awful surprise” could
await him from any detailed narrative of
the misdeeds of one whose falsehood and
whose death had long since been ascer-
tained with equal certainty.
Reasoning against the first impres-
sion which had been produced on his
mind, Challoner sought to establish
an opinion that the surprise of which
Lady Maitland had spoken, must arise
from combinations which he was not in
the habit of contemplating so frequently
as those growing out of the miserable
termination of his youthful love.
While his mind was thus engaged, he
received a summons, which he had hardly
dared to hope for, from the lady,
who again desired his presence. He
promptly obeyed, and stood by her bed-
side. Her features were composed, her
THE WITCH-FINDER. 249
eyes, now sunken and lustreless, were
open, and a paleness sat on her hollow
cheeks, so ghastly, that but for the slight
movement of her lips, it might have been
mistaken for the follower instead of the
precursor of death.
How sad, yet how rich in melancholy
interest are those moments in which a
mortal of only moderate sensibility finds
himself by the death-bed of one beloved!
The dream-like recollection of past
scenes, in which the prostrate sufferer
before us acted a part in vigorous
health, fitly associated with all the va-
rieties of beautiful and blooming life,
sheds deeper gloom on the terrible reality
now contemplated. And when memory
has thus performed her part, anticipation
fails not to assist. We look on the
wreck of loveliness with the appalling
reflection, that even such as it has now
become it cannot remain. We feel that
M 5
25O THE WITCH-FINDER.
in a few days it must pass away. That,
bereft of consciousness, it will be no
more in a state to converse with human
beings than the couch on which it lies.
We shudder at the thought that this is
mo brief state of being –that there is
no return for the victim –that those now
prodigal of their attentions to the lan-
guid sufferer, shall speedily be with-
drawn, and the warm, peopled, and illu-
minated chamber, be exchanged for the
coldness, solitude, and darkness of the
grave. While we sorrow for those about
to descend thither, the selfish, solemn
thought intrudes that such also will
be our own fate. Thus to think of our-
selves may not ennoble, but it heightens
the awful character of such moments;
for though no remark is more common-
place than that death is inevitable, it is
mever so deeply felt as when we witness
those appalling illustrations of our des-
THE WITCH-FINDER. 251
tiny, which are furnished by the last
separation of friends. «.
Challoner was open to all the sombre
reflections which the spectacle before
him was fitted to inspire, and was slow
to break the silence which prevailed
when he entered. Lady Maitland first
spoke.
“ It would be a consolation,” she
sighed, “ if indeed aught on earth could
console the dying sinner before you, to
see you here. I feared that you would
not be able to arrive till my last hour had
sounded, and was feebly attempting to
convey to you in writing what I wished
to disclose. But the effort was too much
for me. My rapidly failing powers were
unequal to the task of intelligibly COPY) -
mitting to paper those facts which you
may be interested in knowing.”
“ I am afflicted to see you thus,” said
Challoner. “On re-visiting my native
M 6
D52 THE WITCH-FINDER.
land, I had hoped for a renewal of
those soothing attentions which your
friendship once bestowed on the most
unhappy of men.” -
The lady attempted to interrupt him,
but he proceeded.
“ Trust me; while I remained a vo-
luntary exile, that I might not witness
the folly and brutality of the wretched
bigots who have usurped the supreme
power in England, I never forgot the ge-
nerous zeal with which, in the plenitude
of youth and beauty, Sophia laboured to
calm those paroxysms of agony which
sometimes hurried me to the verge of
madness.”
“O! speak not, speak not thus!"
cried the lady. “ Heretofore I could
rejoice at hearing such language from
your lips; but it is not in this terrible
hour that I may derive satisfaction from
it.”
THE WITCH-FINDER. 253
“If I were to flatter you, Sophia, I
feel that you might justly reprove. But
such is not my purpose. I give you cre-
dit for no ideal merit, but merely ac-
knowledge the most pure, the most un-
earthly kindness that ever demanded a
tribute of admiration from the lips of
man. When I thank you 9 9
“You know not what you do,” ex-
claimed the patient, who had before
unsuccessfully attempted to check his
speech.
“ I would not pain your delicacy by a
description of my feelings. I may, how-
ever, presume that I trespass not too
much in briefly expressing my thankful-
ness to one whose compassion followed me
through the most distressing years of my
wretched existence.”
“You torture me,” the lady exclaim-
ed, with a degree of energy which
Challoner had not supposed she would
254 THE WITCH-FINDER.
ever have been able to resume, while
her eyes sparkled with a terrifying lus-
tre, in which the fires of frenzy were
for a moment triumphant over the lan-
guor of disease and approaching disso-
lution. He was struck by her altered
tone and manner, but had no time for
speech ere she solemnly added, –
“Yes, kindly as they are intended,
your words are the bitterest reproaches–
are more fearful than the most laboured
revilings which ingenious malevolence
could frame. Alas! you owe me no
gratitude. I have till now been a cheat,
and have basely defrauded you of acknow-
ledgments not my due – not my due,
did I say! Would to God that were all;
but, alas ! they were the very opposite
of what I deserved.”
Astonished and confounded at what
he heard, Challoner could not but sus-
pect that sickness had bereft the suf-
THE WITCH-FINDER. 255
ferer of reason. She paused from ex-
haustion, and appeared rather calmer
than before, and he now found an op-
portunity of saying, W
“I cannot err, if I feel gratitude but
for favours conferred on myself by those
generous cares which –”
“ Forbear, forbear,” was the answer-
ing exclamation. “ If you would show
kindness, which I merit not, to the wretch
before you in her dying hour, abstain
from these persecuting praises, and let
me ere the last vestiges of sense and
recollection have fled, attempt to exe-
cute the purpose for which I summoned
you hither.”
“You shall be obeyed, Sophia. I will
be silent, and since you require it, forget
that you ever could sympathise with in-
expressible sorrow.”
“ Again you wound me by recalling
past duplicity. Let the veil be at last
256 THE WITCH-FINDER,
removed. Look no longer on me as
the disinterested friend who sought to
mitigate the rigour of your fate; but
view me as I am – the coldly cruel, the
unrelenting author of all your woe.”
“You rave, Sophia!”
“ No Challoner, I speak but the lan-
guage of truth. Humiliating as the con-
fession is, my heart pants to make it.
Till now, I have been most anxious to
conceal the part I formerly acted, but I
dare not leave the world oppressed with
a load of unrevealed guilt. Oh, that
earthly suffering could expiate it!"
Though Lady Maitland spoke with
a wild eagerness, Challoner could not
discover that her words were inco-
herent. A succession of strange and im-
perfectly-formed ideas rushed on his
brain; and the recollection of that ter-
rible night which had blasted all his
hopes came with them. It was to that,
THE WITCH-FINDER. 257
and to that alone that he could sup-
pose Lady Maitland's promised disclo-
sure would relate. But how she could
have caused that woe which sprung from
the infidelity of another, was more than
he could comprehend.
“ Listen to me,” said the lady. “ I
have yet a duty to perform, which, late
as it is, I must endeavour to discharge.
You, whatever the horror my narrative
may inspire, are bound to listen to it.
Listen then, listen –I dare not ask you
to forgive.”
258 THE WITCH-FINDER.
CHAP. XII.
What’s earth ? or in it,
That longer than a minute
Can lend a free delight that can endure ?
- QUARLES.
FILLED with wonder at what he had
already heard, and trembling with emo-
tion, Challoner awaited in silent horror
the explanations which Lady Maitland
had offered.
“ Were the brief period of my exist-
ence less distinctly defined,” she said,
“ I retain so much of the weakness
and vanity of my sex, that I might
hesitate where to commence my miser-
able story, and vex your ears with a
detail of transactions connected, I might
THE WITCH-FINDER, 259
almost say, with infancy, to furnish, not
a justification, but something like a
reason for the course I unhappily pur-
sued. But admonished by feelings not
to be mistaken, that brevity is most
needful, I shall at once speak of that
period, when you and my ill-fated re-
lation had become lovers.
“It was your lot, Challoner, not only
to gain the heart of Emma; mine, also,
you unconsciously won. Emma and
myself had long been rivals; both were
praised for attractions which were called
extraordinary. The tribute of admir-
ation which you offered to my cousin,
wounded my pride, and too soon the
love which I felt for you, and which,
under other circumstances, would, I
sincerely believe, have proved as generous
as it was ardent, changed to hate the
most fiery and unquenchable against the
companion of my youth.
260 THE WITCH-FINDER.
“It seemed to you, that we met in
England purely by accident. Such was
not the case. With infinite cunning I
had prepared that train of events which
brought me here, and as it appeared threw
me casually in your way. Absence from
Emma, I flattered myself, would weaken
the influence of her beauty; and at the
same time I hoped the opportunities I
found of being near you would give me
advantages which must eventually secure
a triumph over your affections. With
such purpose, I had recourse to all the
little arts which ingenuity could suggest,
and meanness adopt. On this subject
I need say no more. The sordid atten-
tions which you have so often acknow-
ledged with all the warmth of gratitude,
though they deceived you, failed to
serve me. It was then that I called in
the too potent ally, calumny; but even
THE WITCH-FINDER- 261
this, cautiously used as it was at first,
produced no impression; and it was not
till the fatal night on which you last saw
Emma, that I ventured on that horrid
falsehood which separated two fond
hearts, destined but for me, to have
become one in blissful union.”
“ Sophia!" exclamed Challoner, “your
senses wander. They dictate hideous
fictions to your tongue, and torture you
with self-accusations which it is impos-
sible for you to have deserved.”
“ Notwithstanding all I have said, you
think too favourably of me. You cannot
think that a human being, much less a
female, could perpetrate enormities like
those which it is the business of this
dreadful hour to reveal.”
“ Your language is so collected, that
in spite of the extravagance of the self-
imputed guilt, I might believe your me-
262 THE WITCH-FINDER.
mory still faithful to its duty, did not
my own remind me too distinctly of
the reality. If on your showing I had
rashly believed Emma other than she had
previously been, I might fear that I
had been misled; but it was only from
herself that I would receive conviction
of her falsehood. To me, to me she
confessed ; and after that to doubt –”
“ Would have been wise; to believe
her spotless and sincere, but justice.”
“ Impossible.”
“ You were the victim of diabolical
cunning, which, in the midst of the
murderous horrors of that might of
blood, still retained its place in my
bosom. Events favoured my artificè ; I
saw the labyrinth prepared; and the
terrors of the innocent and the enor-
mities of the guilty, furnished the ma-
terials for constructing a snare in which
THE“ WITCH-FINDER. 263
you became entangled, and Emma was
lost.”
“ Cruel woman ! let me still hope you
wander from the truth.”
“ Would that I could hope so myself.
But restrain your emotion so far that it
may not preclude you from hearing
the few words which I have to utter,
and which will but too well explain how
you were imposed upon, even by the
guileless Emma.”
Here weakness interrupted the nar-
rator, she appeared to suffer acutely,
but made another determined effort at
speech.
“Shame and pain conspire to check
my tongue; gladly would I hold my
peace; but if now mute, my silence must
be eternal. Though many years have
since passed, you cannot have forgotten
that some of the parties connected with
264 THE WITCH-FINBER.
the insurrection of 1641 indulged the
insane hope of being able to annihilate
the English name in Ireland. To at-
tempt this, the more desperate bound
themselves by horrid oaths; and to hold
them fast to their engagements, an in-
strument was framed recording their
resolution, each of the subscribers to
which wrote his name in his own blood,
that in the event of treachery, this awful
testimony might witness against him.
“ Emma had a sister who married an
English gentleman. Mr. Raymond, so
was he named, had withdrawn to the
West of England to reside on his own
estates immediately after his marriage.
This was a short time before you were
known to Emma. A series of misfor-
tunes stripped him of the greater part
of his property; and at the period to
which I have called your attention, he
visited Ireland with the purpose of re-
THE WITCH-FINDER. 265
siding there for some years. Mr. and
Mrs. Raymond were in the same house
with Emma, on the night when the rising
took place. The massacre commenced.
“Death to the English!' was the cry of
the revolted. Emma counselled her
brother and sister to fly, as their recent
arrival from England might bring on
them the fury of the frantic conspi-
rators. But the child was in the way.
With him they could not hope to escape.
Emma entreated them to fear nothing
for the infant, as she would watch over
him with a mother’s love. There was
little time for deliberation; murder was
abroad, and, in all human probability, to
pause wastoperish. Mr. and Mrs. Ray-
mond yielded to Emma's representations;
they fled and left their child with her.
“ It was but a short time after this
that ruffians, armed and masked, entered
the house, searched all the apartments,
VOL. I. N
266 THE WITCH-FINDER.
and made strict enquiries after the
English whom they had expected to
find. Gaining no satisfaction on this
point, they fiercely demanded to whom
the infant, which then clung to Emma,
belonged. She made no reply. “ Is
it Irish ?” asked one of them, with an
action which plainly told that an answer
in the negative would have been the
Sequel for plunging the already reeking
skein into the bosom of the little inno-
cent. To prevent murder, Emma vio-
lated truth. “ Harmit not,” she exclaimed,
* it is– it is Irish !” “ Is it yours,” en-
quired the same ruffian. “ It is my”–she
faltered; but at length added, “ it is
my child.” The desperadoes retired, but
not till they had compelled me to con-
duct them through every room in the
house, in furtherance of their search for
the English, supposed to be residentthere.
“ I remained in the apartment to which
13
THE WITCH-FINDER. 267
I had last accompanied them, when, to
my infinite surprise, you on a sudden
stood before me. The great enemy of
our nature suggested the artifice which
I but too successfully practised. My
envy was inflamed more than it had
ever been, to find that Emma was so
blessed as to have an additional friend
and protector; an Irishman too, in you;
and I was guilty of the daring enormity
of describing my virtuous rival to be a
wretch unworthy the happiness which
seemed to await her.”
“ Merciful God!” exclaimed Chal-
loner, “ and could you, could you act,
I will not say the atrocious –”
“Say it, and spare me not; breathe
the deep curses which I have earned so
well. I then told you that Emma was
with her child; you hastened to her.”
“ I did, and from her own lips heard
the horrid confirmation of all I dreaded.”
N 2
268 THE wITCH-FINDER.
** But hOW ?”
“ As plainly as I now hear anything
that you say.”
“And have you forgotten, Challoner,
in what shape you presented yourself to
her?”
“I wore a mask.”
“And you burst into a room at the
moment when she expected an assassin,
whose business it was to destroy the
tender life she had promised to defend
at the risk of her own.”
“ It is too true. Great God! how
have I sinned ! Oh Sophia! I would
say nothing to aggravate the anguish
which you experience. I would not in-
flict on the parting spirit one added
pang; but the misery which your words
have conveyed to my bosom beggars
description. It urges me to madness. I
must retire, or even now I shall re-
proach.”
THE WITCH-FINDER. 269
“ Reproach me – pour out the bitter-
ness of spirit which I know you must
feel. I shall die with more satisfaction
from knowing that all my punishment is
not reserved for a future state.”
“ May the Most High forgive his
wretched creature! May thy crime be
forgotten! Alas! I dare not hope that
mine may also find oblivion.”
* Your crime, Challoner!”
“ Mine; for yours was venial, com-
pared with the horrid transgression of
which I stand convicted. That jealousy
should seek to harm was natural, but
that love should favour, adopt, and carry
into execution its cruel resolves was
monstrous. Why did I so rashly be-
lieve, or even suspect ? Had not in-
herent baseness rendered me incapable
of appreciating the purity I gazed upon,
I had not barbarously turned from the
lovely one.”
N 3
270 THE WITCH-FINDER.
“Grief misleads you, Challoner; but
I feel I can no more –”
While speaking, Lady Maitland sunk
down. Her eyes closed. They re-opened,
and her gaze was fixed on her visitor.
Challoner was about to speak, when she
by a slight motion of her hand entreated
silence.
“This disclosure,” she said, “is pain-
ful. But I desired most earnestly to
make it- Though late, it may yield some
imperfect consolation.”
“ Imperfect indeed! for what repara-
tion can be made to the victim of mur-
der ???
At the word murder, Lady Maitland
started, or rather shrunk, with an expres-
sion of indescribable horror.
With much difficulty, she resumed.
“You now recallone important fact. With
respect to the circumstances under which
THE WITCH-FINDER. 271
you found the child, you were again de-
ceived.”
“ In What?”
“ In supposing that Emma was –
I cannot 2 9
And here the unfinished sentence on
her lips, she again lost the power of ut-
terance. He waited, hoping to see her
revive, but he waited in vain. To him
it appeared that she had breathed her
last. Her female attendants entered,
and he withdrew to the room in which
he had previously rested. In a few mo-
ments his apprehensions were confirmed,
and it was announced that their Lady
W2S M1G IMOTE.
The tidings were too accurately anti-
cipated by Challoner, to create surprise.
He raised his eyes towards heaven, to
implore forgiveness for the guilty spirit
which was then summoned to its lastaw-
ful account. But it struck him, that to
- N 4
272 THE WITCH-FINDER.
do so were an act of presumption, which
could nothing benefit the deceased.
Oppressed as he was with the thought
that his own unworthy suspicions had
refused Emma the succour which he
might have afforded in the hour of dan-
ger, withholding of which had caused
her to be included in the frightful mas-
sacre then in progress, he sincerely
feared that to petition for himself would
be unavailing; but to pray for another,
he judged was to arrogate to himself a
degree of influence with heaven, to which
it would be worse than folly to pretend.
And while his mind was thus disturbed,
he sadly recalled the statements to which
he had just listened, and attempted to
compare them with the facts, such as he
rememberedthem, to which they referred.
He could find no excuse for his own con-
duct in the artful misrepresentations of
which he had been the victim. Mean-
THE WITCH-FINDER. 273
ness and suspicion, and finally the most
horrible cruelty, he believed to attach
to his having credited the perfidious
falsehoods by which he had been abused.
At all events, he considered he ought to
have offered Emmahis protection, till the
perils which surrounded her were past.
Not to have done this, seemed to him
acting a ferocious and an unmanly part;
and thus accusing himself, he forgotthat
when he heard Emma, as he thought,
avow herself a mother, he was not in-
formed of the danger to which she was
exposed.
Then his mind turned to the extreme
anxiety which Lady Maitland had evinced
to communicate something which had
previously escaped her recollection, and
which related to his finding the child.
He deeply lamented that she had not
spoken sooner on this subject. Her
manner, while she gave the assurance
N 5
274 THE WITCH-FINDER.
that there“ he had been again deceived,”
was full of mysterious intelligence. But
what deception could have been prac-
tised upon him, where he himself was the
only living actor, the child excepted,
which certainly was incapable of de-
ceit ? He had left Emma with the in-
fant in her arms. Chance had conducted
him to her mangled remains, and from
her cold embrace he had smatched the
surviving object of her care. What pos-
sible fraud could have been attempted in
all this? He was quite sure that, dis-
tracted as he was on that night, his wan-
derings had been directed by chance,
and not by Sophia, to the spot where
the corpse reposed. It was clear that
he had been wrong in supposing Al-
bert the child of Emma. This, Lady
Maitland had stated, yet this was all
which he could imagine she had to im-
part, when she seemed most desirous
THE WITCH-FINDERs D75
that life might be prolonged for a few
seconds. It appeared not extremely im-
probable, thatinthemoment of death, her
failing intellects should have suggested
the fact as important to be mentioned,
though what had fallen from her before
rendered it superfluous.
Tortured and perplexed with sad re-
flections and fruitless conjectures, he
bestowed one parting glance on the
lifeless form of Lady Maitland, and
retired, envying her the repose which
seemed to be hers, yet shuddering to
contemplate the awful state on which
the unprepared spirit had been compelled
to enter. He mounted his horse without
speaking, and left the mansion in which
he had witnessed a spectacle so appalling,
and listened to disclosures so heart-rend-
ing, without having formed any resolu-
tion whither to go. His horse decided
for returning to London, and Robert
N 6
276 THE WITCH-FINDER.
concluding such to be the intention of
his master, did not annoy him with en-
quiries. Challoner thought not of the
road, or of anything that affected himself,
but his whole soul was engrossed by a
new subject for reflection; the situation
in which he then stood, and that in which
he must thereafter stand with respect to
Albert. His feelings, so far as the youth
was concerned, had undergone a most
important change. Humanity had al-
ways made him take a lively interest
in his fate. If the circumstances of
his birth, and reluctance to encounter
too frequently the living memorial of the
depravity he mourned, had lately dis-
posed him to object to an union between
Albert and Celia Lesley, he could now do
so no longer. With deep regret for his
own precipitation, all his former tender-
ness for Emma had revived.
“ But, alas!" he sighed, “my error
THE WITCH-FINDER. 277
is not to be repaired! My idly-breathed
sorrows cannot soothe the heart which
has long slumbered in the stillness of
death. This is sad,– but there remains
one who was near to her,– to her love
for whom she sacrificed herself. The
valued pledge confided to my care, when
murder had bereft it of hers, shall now
be all but as dear to me as she who gave
it would have been. Albert I live but
for you.”
His thoughts had involuntarily shaped
themselves into words. The sound of
his voice was heard by Robert, who now
approached, and desired to know if it
was to him that Challoner had designed
to address himself.
“ No, Robert,” was the answer; “ I
spoke but to myself. With another I am
at present little fitted to converse.”
“ Marry, Sir, make no apology about
278 . THE WITCH-FINDER.
your unfitness for talk, if you are disposed
toindulge in conversation; but I judge,
so please you, the true meaning of your
speech is, that you are not anxious for
company.”
“ That is my meaning.”
“ Then, Sir, I may not intrude idle
queries, but as it is now past nightfall, I
would ask where you would choose to
halt.”
* I care not.”
“ Nor I, much; but seeing the road
to London is lonely, and the way not
good, were it not better that we pre-
sently seek for a resting-place?"
“A resting-place, Robert ! I fear me,
you can find none for me."
“ Oh! but methinks I can, and that
speedily, for your comfort.”
* You mean an inn.“
“That is the identical thing of which
THE WITCH-FINDER. . 279
I speak; and be it known to your honour
that we are now about entering Brentford,
where that venerable knave whom you
conversed with to-day holds his sign of
the Three Pigeons. I marked it as we
passed through, thinking the place not
worse than any other trap for travellers
of that sort. Shall I point it out to you
when we arrive ?”
“ I think not; riotous merriment will
probably be there, and this I cannot
brook tonight.”
“ Methinks, Sir, here your judgment
is out at elbows. The vagabondisings
in Red Bull Alley were not to reach
conclusion till near six of the clock.
Suppering would then detain the party
some considerable time, and tippling,
perhaps, after that; so it is not unlikely
that they will abide there, or in the neigh-
bourhood, all night.”
280 - THE WITCH-FINDER.
“It may so fall out, Robert, so do as
you will.”
Robert considering the matter asset-
tled, made no reply, and they rode on
in silence. --
The witch-FINDER. , 281
CHAP. XIII.
Among other things they brought me some hazel nuts,
which I put into a box, and sometimes I used to crack
and eat of them. In the night time my gentleman,
the devil, came and got the nuts out of the box, and
cracked them against one of the bed-posts.
LUTHER's Table Talk.
When Albert retreated somewhat has-
tily from the society of Challoner, Lowen,
and James Thorpe, at Islington, he re-
paired with little loss of time to a house
in the Old Jewry, at which the senior
Thorpe had desired that he would meet
him. The cause of the unexpected sum-
mons which he had received was thus
unfolded.
“ I have craved to see you, young man,
because I have been informed that you,
on the last night but one, when I sup-
posed you to be no nearer than London,
282 THE WITCH-FINDER.
were really at St. Alban's; and farther,
that you visited the horrid being, whose
diabolical arts have for years occasioned
me so much loss and suffering.”
Amazed at this address, Albert assured
the speaker that he had not approached
St. Alban’s since with his knowledge and
consent, he had left that city for London.
“This confounds me,” said Thorpe ;
“ for I have been told by a prudent and
discreet man, that one of my sons had
been seen issuing from the very den of
that emissary of Satan. Now as James
never was known to seek her in his life,
and you have admitted that on sundry
occasions you scrupled not to con-
verse with her, I doubted not that
the tale thus brought to me related
to you. If it be so, deny it not, as I am
prepared on the strength of dreadful
sights, beheld with my own eyes on that
selfsame night, to forewarn you of the
THE WITCH-FINDER, 283
peril to which you expose yourself seek-
ing such society.”
Again Albert declared that the report
was to the best of his belief without
foundation. The adventure of James
had not been made known to him, and
had he been so disposed, he had no
means of giving the explanation of which
Thorpe stood in need, to account for
what had been told.
“I am glad,” said Thorpe, “ to
hear that you have not been there so
lately. Would to God you had never
seen her!”
“ Indeed, Sir, I think you have slight
cause to regret any communication which
I have had with the female you suppose
to be a witch. I am not without hopes
that you will, ere long, change your opin-
ion in this matter. I once, being at the
time a boy, pursued her with causeless
irrational hatred. She was then not so
284 THE WITCH-FINDER.
much arraigned by common report for
her witchcraft, as for being reputed to
be an old maid. I threw stones first at
her cottage, and then when she presented
herself to expostulate with me, or to
intreat forbearance, I added to the out-
rage, and aimed at her. One stone, I
remember, struck her bosom. I saw a tear
fall from her eye while to escape further
insult she turned to re-enter her dwell-
ing, and it awoke me to remorse.”
“There you were wrong. It was no
unamiable weakness on your part; but
remorse ought not to be felt for inflicting
punishment on a witch.”
“ If the offence with which she is
charged be a grave one, it is not to the
disorderly hand of a giddy boy that its
punishment ought to be left.”
“True; a stronger arm ought to be
put forth where the occasion is so press-
ing.”
THE WITCH-FINDER. 285
** I know not that, but when moved
with pity, I had followed, secretly wishing
I could do away the remembrance of the
injury, she looked round with a counte-
nance so full of sorrow, but so free from
the resentment which I merited, that,
not to have saved my own life, could
I again have assailed her.”
“You were duped.”
“ Sir, my heart told me I had sinned
against one who had never sought to
offend me; and my eyes informed me
that the object of my persecution was as
patient and forgiving as I had been rash
and cruel. My tears answered hers.
She saw my contrition, and the oppor-
tunities which I subsequently had of
conversing with her, only confirmed the
first impression which her gentleness
made.” - s“
“And will you retain that impression
now, when I state to you, that through
286 THE WITCH-FINDER.
the last four-and-twenty hours I have
sustained the most intolerable torture,
of which, I doubt not, she, and she alone,
is the cause ?”
** Indeed!”
“ I speak the truth – what profit
should it be to me falsely to charge ano-
ther ?” « - -
“ But you may err in judgment."
“ No, the evil is too palpable, is too
indubitable to admit of question. You
will shudder when I tell you, that at this
moment my figure in wax is roasting
before the fire of that accursed hag, to
the end that, as that dissolves, my body
may waste and finally perish.”
“ Pardon me, Sir; but I must hope that
in this you are misinformed.”
“ Alas! Albert, I could wish it, but to
hope it is impossible.”
“ And why, Sir ?– why do you sup-
pose that such practices are resorted to
THE WITCH-FINDER. 287
for the purpose of bringing about your
destruction ?" 2.
“ Because I know the diabolical arts
which the devil teaches those who are
of his elect, to practise against mankind.
You are ignorant of them, and can
scarcely credit what I tell; but the sen-
sations which now agonize my wretched
frame, place it past all doubt that I am
in the miserable situation which I have
described.”
“ Pray, Sir, do not rashly act on this
idea.”
“I will do nothing, Albert, that may
justly merit reproof as being rash. To
guard against such misdoings, you now
see me here. As that most useful auxi-
Diary of justice, the pious Master Mat-
hew Hopkins, could not, by reason of the
important labours which engage him in
this great and sinful town, forthwith
repair to me at my home, I resolved tO
„.……....….…..…...….…......--- -----------------------------“ ““
288 THE WITCH-FINDER.
come hither for the purpose of being
resolved by him, whether the maladies
or grievances whichnow affect my health
be the work of hell, or merely those
visitations of nature to which mortal man
ought to submit with religious patience
and humble resignation.”
“ I hope you will not have to regret
the journey you have made. From what
fame reports, it should seem that Hopkins
is a man of some skill. Much experi-
ence he undoubtedly has, and this will,
I flatter myself, enable him to assure
you that you have been causelessly
alarmed.”
“It cannot be. Could you experience
what Iendure, you would not speak thus;
but faithful to the resolution which I
have avowed, I will listen to what the
highly gifted Master Matthew Hopkins
may state, with a sincere desire to learn
that I have been mistaken.”
THE WITCH-FINDER. 289
“ But when shall you see him?”
“This very hour –nay, this minute,
At the earnest solicitation of my friend
Peter Abney, in whose house we now
meet, he vouchsafed me half an hour of
his valuable time. We have already
exchanged salutations. He has but
stepped into another room to take
refreshment, and give me leisure to col-
lect my thoughts. I now hear him
returning – he is here.”
And the celebrated “ witch-finder
general” as he styled himself and wished
to be styled by others, Matthew Hop-
kins, now entered. He was a man of
middle stature, with a countenance re-
markably sallow, which was decorated
with not a few festering pimples, the
offspring of the continued good cheer to
which his suddenly-discovered talent
for witch-finding had introduced him.
He wore a blackbeard, and his eye-
VOL. I. O
290 THE WITCH-FINDER.
brows were knitted into an habitual
frown, which he endeavoured to pass on
those whom he encountered for the gra-
vity of profound thought and solemn
meditation. W
He bestowed little of his notice on
Albert, conceiving, no doubt, that the
eminence which he had attained, ex-
empted him from the necessity of at-
tending very minutely to the forms of
ordinary civility. Seating himself with-
out loss of time, he commenced, with-
out attending to the few words which
Thorpe attempted to utter, explanatory
of the presence of a third person.
“And so, friend, the family of Luci-
fer you find troublesome neighbours.
Before I had tidings of you, I had learned
that that part of the country stood much
in need of my aid; but the potent calls
on me elsewhere, made it impossible to
go thither for any reasonable time, and
sº
THE WITCH-FINDER. 291
to begin to root out witchcraft without
going through with the work, would
only be tantalising the sufferers, and
flattering the devil, by making him think
that he had in some sort baffled me.
These matters induced me to defer my
coming for a season, and kept me from
holding converse with any one of the
inhabitants of that vicinity.”
Thorpe here very humbly expressed
his satisfaction and gratitude at the good-
ness of Mr. Hopkins in consenting to
see him.
“Spare thanks,” was the remark which
this conduct called forth. “Thanks are
but air, and you of course, knowing,
as you must know, that I sustain no tri-
fling loss by delaying here for your
easement, are prepared with a different
manner of acknowledgement.”
A pretty broad hint was conveyed by
these words, but a still more potent one
O 2
292 THE WITCH-FINDER,
was given by the look and action which
accompanied them. Thorpe was not so
deficient in capacity as to fail to under-
stand the appeal, and five spur rials were
speedily produced from his pocket.
“These five pieces of gold,” said he,
“ if you will receive them straight, I
should wish to offer as a small –”
“ As a small beginning,” said the
witch-finder, obligingly supplying a fi-
nish to the sentence which Thorpe had
commenced, and at the same time receiv-
ing and depositing the money in a secure
receptacle beneath his cloak, with great
expedition and dexterity.
“ And now, Sir, I would ask,” said
Thorpe, in a more assured tone than he
had previously used, considering, perhaps,
the gracious reception of his money a
mark of condescension which invited
freedom of conversation.
THE WITCH-FINDER. 293
* Hold,” cried Hopkins, “ it is I must
ask you questions, for you are not to
catechise me. You suffer from witchcraft
you say, and you know the party, I
trOW 2”
** So I believe.”
“ Nay, if you only believe, why came
you to me ? Did I not send you, byletter,
instructions how you might assuredly
know where the witch, your foe, should
be found? Now, if having used the me-
thods I commended, you still question
my verity, why seek you me at all Mas-
ter Thorpe? answer me that."
“ Because, profound Sir, it calami-
tously fortuned, that those to whom I
gave it in charge to send forth the cow
in manner directed, forgot the day which
had been named, and used the means
you prescribed for Friday on a Thurs-
day.” >.
«r O 3
294 THE WITCH-FINDER,
“ Nay, how can you hope to thrive, if
you blunder thus? Stands it not to rea-
son and common sense, since you can-
not see nor touch to-morrow, while yet
it is butto-day, that that which may prove
(Deo juvante) most potent at one time
shall be utterly powerless, and have none
effect at another?"
“This did I feel, and much do I wish
to know if the charm still hold good, or
whether its virtue expired on that very
Friday on which it ought to have been
experimented.” -
66 Marry, Master Thorpe, as I am not
one of those who would cozen men out
of their money, rendering them no be-
nefit in return, the directions which I
sped to you were of that passing value,
that even time, which mangles most
things, can nothing harm them, and they
are even now as good as they were on the
day when they were but newly written.“
The witch-FINDER. 295
* That glads me.”
“ So it ought; for look you, not only
shall that which you have solace you
through your natural life, but it may be
a very treasure to your children and all
your posterity in future times. You
should be careful, not to have it com-
monly reported that you have such a
matter in your possession, for all the
witches in the country knowing their
danger, shall, in that case, be apt to
seek your life.”
“ Of this I have had my fears, and I
would know if a preventive against their
malice may be furnished in the interim.”
“ Your house, of course, has a horse-
shoe mailed by the door way.”
* It has.” ". F
“Some eringo roots carried about
your person may be of benefit; but right-
ly guessing that you might stand in need
of something still more potent, I have
O 4
296 THE WITCH-FINDER.
brought with me a sample of fuga daemo-
nium, which I have prepared with infi-
nite care and trouble, and which will put
the devil upon taking to his heels. Many
years of study were needed to bring this
to perfection, but you shall have it gratis;
that is, simply paying a rose rial for the
costly herbs brought from Mount Cal-
vary and Mesopotamia, of which it is
composed. Take it.” *
Thorpe received this valuable pre-
sent, consisting of a powder made from
the herb called St. John's wort, chalk
dust, and common earth, with much gra-
titude, and produced the money as
promptly as Hopkins could have desired.
“Understand well what is the value of
that which I have now, without thought
of fee, profit, or reward, put into your
keeping. This will make demons avoid
you, for knowing you thus prepared,
they shall not dare to approach, well
THE WITCH-FINDER- 297
foreseeing that their malice would be
impotent, as this would speedily turn
the points of their talons. Some teach,
that to inhale smoke from the burn-
ing tooth of a dead man, having first
anointed the whole frame with the gall of
a crow, will answer the purpose; but this
experience has proved to be of no avail.”
“And do you imagine, Sir, that evil
spirits can assail mortals thus sensibly, if
no precautions like one of those you
commend were taken ?”
This question from Albert called forth
a look of ineffable contempt from Hop-
kins, who promptly replied, –
“ I suppose nothing in the matter. I
speak but of that which is well known,
and has in many cases been brought to
the very proof. Is it not on record, how
a certain wizard sent evil spirits to kill
the holy Ambrose, which, they being baf-
fled, as there is good reason to guess,
O 5
298 THE wITCH-FINDER.
by semblable means to those which I
employ, returned for answer, “ That God
had hedged him in as he did Job?'”
“ I have not read of it.”
“ But you have read, or your educa-
tion has been much neglected, how the
devil went to attack the pious Martin
Luther, whose very nuts he ventured to
steal. The good man, it is said, put
Satan to flight by using the words Om-
nia subjecisti pedibus ejus, but I warrant
he was tooprudent not to be armed with
some effectual preparation like to this
of mine besides.” - ". -
“This does not appear. Prayer and
confidence in the Supreme Being, I have
always understood, were the only wea-
pons which Luther thought it necessary
to oppose to the prince of darkness.”
“ But if it has pleased God to bless
mortals by discovering to them the la-
tent virtues of divers potent herbs, and
THE WITCH-FINDER. 299
other substances, is it well that faith
and prayer should be left wholly to
themselves, where such aids are pro-
curable ?” -
“It might seem presuming in me to
question aught that you have advanced,
but I have heard men who are counted
both pious and sensible, as well as
learned, doubt that spirits, emissaries of
Satan I mean, could trouble the earth
or the air at all.” -
“Then must I unfoldtoyou that such
learned men, may claim of right the most
glorious prize to which princely igno-
rance would be entitled. This do I
advance, not on my own simple autho-
rity, which some have thought might be
relied upon in such matters, but on the
concurring testimony of Marcus the Ere-
mite, who was deemed most skilful in
his day, and Hallywell, no mean person
neither. These both assert, nor has it
o 6
3OO THE WITCH-FINDER.
till now been questioned, that not only
do evil spirits infest the earth and air,
but also the water, and that there are no
fewer than six varieties.”
“ So I have heard,” said Thorpe.
“ Lelurion, that is, nocturnal fire, is the
name of the first class, which may be
found on the top of the airy region, but
still much beneath the moon; the second
are nearer to the earth ; the third, which
are terrestrial, reside on the earth, and
these are those against whom the means
which I have recommended are mainly
directed, for they are fearful enemies of
our race; the fourth haunt the waters–
they create whirhpools in rivers, and raise
storms by sea, to the destruction of many
vessels and mariners.” z
“ And where may the fifth be found,”
enquired Thorpe.
“ In caverns and ruins; these signify
their presence by pestilential damps, and
THE WITCH-FINDER. 301
sometimes by suphureous flame, spring-
ing direct from the deep abyss of hell;
and the last, which sometimes go hand
in hand with the third, are the light-hat-
ing ghosts, who are fond of night-walk-
ing, and striking all things they meet
with cold passions.”
“This,” said Albert, “ if it be so, is
indeed a terrible array of immortal power
against human weakness. Yet, methinks,
it seems incredible that the beneficent
Author of creation should have left the
noblest work of his hand thus exposed to
the machinations of those who had pre-
viously rebelled against his power.”
“ Nor are they so exposed, without
the means being provided for guarding
against the danger, and punishing the
guilty mortals who sell themselves to
hell and take the devil's sacrament.”
“ Mark you that,” said Thorpe. “This
I told you before, but you little heeded
ZO2 THE WITCH-FINDER.
it. The witches are introduced to the
chief of hell commonly on a Sunday
night, the prince of devils sitting on a
throne of earthly majesty, in the form of
a man.”
“Save his cloven foot,” Hopkins re-
marked, “ which he is evermore trying
to hide. The witch then offering her-
self must be re-baptised in the name of
Satan, which done, heis very busy with his
long nails in scratching out all traces of
the cross on the forehead, imprinted at
the true baptismal ceremony, in place of
which he impresses (so as not to be seen
of men however,) the mark of the beast.
An oil or ointment is made from the flesh
of unbaptised living infants, part of
this they swallow, and with the rest
anoint; and having vowed both body
and soul to the devil, they defy Father,
Son, and Holy Ghost; upon which their
familiars are appointed to them.”
THE WITCH-FINDER- 303
“ You, Sir,” said Albert, “ may be-
lieve all this, but offend as it may, I must
say I credit not the existence of such
abominations, nor do I see, supposing
they were possible, how they could be
known.”
“Why then, I will tell you. We
know it from the confessions of those
who have been convicted of witchcraft.
We know it from Scripture, and pagan
authors have confirmed the fact.”
“ I know Horace speaks of witches,
but „he derides Canidia with such un-
sparing mockery, as could not be ex-
pected from one who had faith in the
powers with which they are supposed to
be endowed.”
“ But history jests not on these mat-
ters. Not to go back to proceedings of
remote date, think you parliament de-
signed to indulge in idle pleasantry,
when the act of 1541 passed against
304 THE WITCH-FINDER.
conjuration, witchcraft, and sorcery.
Think you Cranmer meant to be mer-
ry, when in his * Articles of Visitation,"
he directed enquiry after “ any that used
charms, sorcery, enchantments, witch-
craft, soothsaying, or any like craft in-
vented by the devil?" He, methinks, was
a man of some knowledge and capacity,
as well as gravity. Was the statute of
1562, for the punishment of witchcraft, a
jocular piece of legislation ?"
“That I mean not to assert ; but even
legislators may be misled.” -
“ Or was the more recent as well as
more important act, which passed in
1608, to be so esteemed, which enumer-
ates the very crimes which the Sad-
ducees of our time would fain persuade
people simple enough to give ear to their
delusions are impossible?"
“ I am not acquainted with the laws
you mention, but doubt not-”
THE WITCH-FINDER. ZO5
“ Nay,” cried Hopkins, too warm
with the subject to wait for the conclusion
of the sentence, “ to doubt shall be im-
possible; for, as you shall see with your
owneyes, thestatute directed againstsuch
unlawful practices, runs thus, denounc-
ing any who“ shall use, practise, or ex-
ercise any invocation or any conjuration
of any evil or wicked spirit, to or for any
intent or purpose; or consult, covenant
with, entertain or employ, feed or re-
ward any evil or wicked spirit, to or for
any intent or purpose; or take up any
dead man, woman, or child, out of his,
her, or their grave, or any other place
where the dead body resteth; or the
skin, bone, or other part of any dead
person to be employed or used in any
manner of witchcraft, sorcery, charm, or
enchantment; or shall use, practise, or
exercise any witchcraft, sorcery, charm,
or enchantment, whereby any person
Z06 THE WITCH-FINDER.
shall be killed, destroyed, wasted, con-
sumed, or lamed in his or her body,
or any part thereof, such offender shall
suffer death.” ”
“What can you say to that, Albert ?”
demanded Thorpe. «
“I certainly cannot doubt that it
has been believed such things were.
This Mr. Hopkins has established most
certainly.” - I
“ But,” cried the witch-finder, “ you
would have it credited that our ances-
tors of the time of Queen Elizabeth and
King James, who, it has been thought by
many, were no fools, did not know what
laws were necessary for the well-being of
this realm of England. You, forsooth,
would lament that the Sadducees of the
present day then lived not to instruct
them.” "
“ Truly, Albert," said Thorpe, “me-
thinks it were no easy task to answer
this. To suppose that kings, parlia-
THE WITCH-FINDER. 307
ments, bishops, judges, juries, prosecu-
tors, witnesses, and confessing criminals,
have all been totally in error, were too
much.”
Albert saw that reason with Mr.
Thorpe and the witch-finder had no
effect but to embarrass the former, and
irritate the latter, and declined pressing
on them more forcibly those opinions
which he could not bring himself to
abandon. -
Thorpe went on. “ Yet why should
I argue this matter, when my own
feelings bring terrible conviction that
such practices are now carried on. You
must know, learned Sir,” he proceeded,
addressing himself to Hopkins, “ that of
late I have been subject to frequentheats,
most intolerable in their nature, at divers
times and seasons." ,
“ Indeed! Say you so?"
“This leads me to conclude that my
3O8 THE WITCH-FINDER.
waxen effigy has been put down to roast
before the witch’s fire.”
“ And truth to say, a most shrewd and
sensible conjecture. Feel you not a
sort of unseemly dew upon your per-
SOn ?”
sº I do.”
“Accompanied with much terror?"
“Yes, and in proportion as the alarm
is great, the dew increases, and no exer-
tion that I can make will shake it off”
“You say right; the more you bestir
yourself, the greater it shall become.
Nay, Master Thorpe, this is no common
case of yours, your person being, as it
were, already in the hands of the ene-
my. I shall enquire into this most
speedily. In a very few days I will seek
you at your residence. If she you sus-
pect be the true witch, Ishall, perchance,
put a stop to her devil's doings, before
your frame shall be much more wasted
THE WITCH-FINDER. SOg
than it is at this present time; and now,
as my concerns call me hence for the
present fare you well.”
The Witch-finder then withdrew.
Thorpe having received confirmation
ofall he dreaded, and thus, as it were,
obtained license to be miserable, was
perfectly satified with the result of
their interview, while he glowed with
impatience to resume those proceedings
which he flattered himself would ter-
minate in bringing Dame Neville to
condign punishment, and prove the
means of snatching him from that dia-
bolical influence of which he supposed
himself to be the victim.
31O THE WITCH-FINDER.
-ses
CHAP. XIV.
He keeps all in awe,
Jests like a licensed fool, commands like law.
DR. DoNNE.
At the Three Pigeons, Challoner retired
to bed, but not to rest, soon after his
arrival. He had directed Robert to ap-
prise him of the coming of Albert, if he
should accompany Lowen on his return
from the Red Bull, and in the event of
his not doing so, he charged him to
make enquiry of the veteran, or of
James Thorpe, who was expected to
be his companion, where he could be
found.
Robert remained in the principal room
of the inn till éÄen o'clock, when
judging those who were looked for
14 *
THE WITCH-FINDER. 31 1
would not arrive that night, he went to
bed.
It was scarcely six o'clock when he
was again at his post, and before seven,
Lowen, Green, and James Thorpe made
their appearance. They had been de-
tained by feasting and convivial amuse-
ments till the evening was somewhat
advanced, when, in consequence of the
age and infirmities of Lowen, added to
the circumstance of the tide being against
them, (the party intending to go to
Brentford by water,) it was determined
that their departure should be postponed
till the morning. The old actor had
taken his wonted rest, but James and
Green, with others, had remained up
during the night.
“What old Bluff” cried James, ob-
serving Robert, “ are your here? Why
I can hardly believe my eyes. Do they
really tell the truth ? In revenge for
312 THE WITCH-FINDER.
being kept open all night, I suspect
them of a lie; speak, is it so ?”
“ No, they are not yet so corrupted
by the example of their misbehaving
neighbour, as to deceive by untrue re-
presentations.”
“ Misbehaving neighbour! What's
that? Elucidate; for it is not every fool
can understand your drift.”
“ So I perceive. All I meant to say
was, your eyes have not taken a lesson
from your tongue.”
“That's more than I know, for they
make you look like a tolerably honest
piece of unseemly rubbish, which my
tongue has reported. But what have you
to do here; come you to spy on me?”
“ Not I; why should I deem you
worth looking after ? I but want to
ask where I may find young Master
Albert.” *
“What! seek you Rhapsody? Mayhap
"THE WITCH-FINDER. 313
you want him to write an epithalamium
on your marriage."
“ Mayhap I am going on no such fool's
errand.”
“Or a sonnet to your mistress, or an
ode on your birth-day; or do you wish
to be provided with a dainty set of neck
verses ?” w
“ Marry, Master Thorpe,” cried Green,
preparing for a speech of remonstrance
in favour of Robert, whom he regarded
as dealt somewhat hardly by,–“ why in-
dulge you these humours at the cost
of a civil and moderately well-spoken
man ?” -
“What know you of good speech, I
would fain learn ? Have you so far
blundered, because your parrot-like repe-
tition of “ et tu quoque,” in conjunction
with that living volume of cruel satires
on humanity, thy person, provokes mirth
from those who cannot feel for the de-
VOL. I. P
314 THE WITCH-FINDER,
gradation of their species, that you mis-
take yourself for a person of moderate
judgment?” *-
“ Your tongue,"Green answered,“am-
bles merrily this morning; methinks you
have swallowed rather more of wine than
assorts with the little discretion you com-
monly wear.”
“ You remind me that I am thirsty.
Come, as the wearer of an ugly mask
ought to be handsomely paid, see a bot-
tle of sack brought in forthwith.”
“ Nay, you have had sufficient.”
“The air of the morning on the river
was cold and watery, therefore get me
wine. Know you not that to drink is
philosophy, for it is only after full liba-
tions that a man can truly see how
things really are, as it is only then that
he can perceive the world goes round.”
“ Well, since advice is of no avail–”
“A veil! what talk you of a veil?
1i
THE WITCH-FINDER. 315
yet I will not blame. A veil may well
suit you. Get one, and wear it, for the
comfort both of those who are now,
and who shall be hereafter.”
“ Your wit begins to run low,” Green
retorted, “ since you can only play on a
word. A literal joke is –” »
“ Is literally too good for dunces;
truly it is well for such as you and
Lowen to object to a turn of that sort.
Husks are fit food for hogs, and small
quiddities meet entertainment for lack-
wits. What, forsooth, shall beggars in
mind, like you, while starving for a grain
of merriment, flout when I fling you a
pancake, and turn up your noses because
it is not a pudding?”
“ But the giving two significations to a
word is not worth the price of a pan-
cake, and is only the modern substitute
for wit.”
“ Let not dolts of your small know-
P 2 -
316 THE WITCH-FINDER.
ledge say this. Old Jack Lowen eart
tell that Will Shakspeare objected not to
a pun; he knew it entitled to respect, if
but for its antiquity, for he perchance
had heard that Cicero was a punster.“
** HOW SO?”
“ Why thus: when a matron of pru-
dence had liberally obliged Caius Julius
Caesar with the services of her daughter
Tertia, it being remarked that Servilia.
the mother, had purchased lands from
the Dictator on cheap terms; * Yea,”
quoth Cicero, “ she hath a good penny-
worth, but Tertia deducta est.” So
much for your modern substitute for
wit. Now, but that I have some touch
of pity for thee, I would bid thee look in
the glass (but it would be too cruel to
make thee inspect thine own counte-
nance), to see what an ass thou ap-
pearest.”
“ 'Sblood," exclaimed Lowen, “you
THE WITCH-FINDER. 317
are as rantipolish now as you were last
night, while attired as the ward in our
tragedy, you made the gazers laugh at
* Women, Beware of Women.” ”
“They did not laugh three years ago
at your haltings as Fabritio.”
“ Did they weep ?"
“The candles from their hoops above
did weep tallow tears, to see so hoary a
fool beneath.”
“I thought my turn was coming,”
said Lowen, folding his arms with an air
of patient expectation; “go on; let us
hear what you have to say of me."
“ Why, what can I have to say to you,
you last century's almanack of folly;
you ante-dated record of iniquity, you
spent-ball, you unstrung fiddle, you
pump without a handle. !”
sº Go On.”
“ It may not be ; I cannot throw a
straw so far as I might a stone; there
P 3
#
". .
Sº
318 THE WITCH-FINDER.
is no grappling with the report of a dis-
charged popgun, or, or –”
“ Ay, or what else?”
“Or the forlorn straggling smoke of
a snuffed-out candle.”
“Go on, you cannot fret me.”
“ No, you are like a tinder-box that
has been in the rain; there is no carry-
ing a spark to you; but never keep your
arms folded across, and your head so
knowingly shrunk down between them,
unless you expect Master Chiswell the
tombstone cutter here to carve out the
resemblance of your skull and cross
bones, as decorations for the parish
charnel-house.”
“ Does the thinness of my face of
fend 2” .. ".
“ Not the thinness of thy face alone,
but that coupled with the thickness of
thy head. Age, when it borrows a
man's teeth, commonly makes free with
THE WITCH-FINDER- 319
his brains. What pity it is you did not
shed your tongue with your teeth, that
you might not corrupt the rising genera-
tion by counsel, when you could no
longer do it by example.”
“ My counsel has nothing harmed you,
methinks.” -
.“ True, my patriarch of evil, eldest
born of Satan. I am naturally too preco-
cious in the way of sin to require tuition.
Had it been otherwise, thou wouldest
have supplied it. But come, my original
Hamlet, original sin I would say, let us
have wine.”
“Your prattle makes you thirsty.”
“ Your dullness is a dry subject, and
in this way you are worth the price of a
pickled herring.” -
“That is more than the value of your
jest, which long since sported by Will
Kempe, resembles a herring in this, that
P 4 «W
32O THE WITCH-FINDER.
it has been put by dried, but is unlike it,
for that it has no salt.” «
“O, as to that, we jokers of to-day
look for no encouragement from you
critics of yesterday. Everything with
you is either second-hand or worthless.
You know you always love to celebrate
men whose superiority must have been
great to make upfor your insignificance.”
“Why,” said Lowen, “men have been
seen by me who need not turn their
backs for any who now live; and for
myself, I might say that once I was a
9 9
Yl3M =
“ All the better for your wife."
“ I say I was a man, that –“
66
“That take you all in all
We shall not look upon your like again."
No; nor desire to look upon it, I war-
rant. But here comes your wine, which
THE WITCH-FINDER. 321
at all events is not superannuated if you
are. And now, while the loin of mutton
is getting ready which you promised us
for breakfast, I will give you, in good
cavalier fashion, “ The restoration of the
stage.” Drink it, Green, but do not look
at it, for the stage is intended * to hold
as ’twere the mirror up to nature;” so
you had as good turn your face another s
way.” -
“ Methinks of that we have had
enough.” -
“ More than enough of thy face,
Tom, if we had seen it but once, and
that with only half an eye.” -
“Then you need not go on against it
now.”
“ I go against your face?– I would
not let a horse of mine go against it, for
fear of his taking fright thereat. But
eome, old Lowen, forget not why you
brought me to Brentford. Where are
P 5
322 THE WITCH-FINDER.
the curiosities which villanous death, by
carrying off tolerable men, has put into
your keeping?” *
“ These I brought forth,” said Lowen,
“ at the commencement of your foolery,
but as you would not hear of them, I
care not to show them now.”
“ Nay, never speak to me in that grave
croaking Queen Elizabeth's-regin-ori-
ginal-Hamlet Globe-spoutingtone, but
be the gay, garrulous old blockhead I
have hitherto known thee, and pour
forth thy ripe and mellow nonsense as
theretofore, which,flattery apart, makes
thee no unfit companion for fools thy
juniors by half a century.”
“What,” cried Lowen, taking up the
tone of raillery, which James seemed
willing to abandon, “ do you think such a
sample of callow imprudence as you are,
can touch me, the contemporary of Tay-
lor, of Burbage, of Hemmings, and of
THE WITCH-FINDER. 323
Shakspeare? Never think it; we players
yield not to inferiors.” »
“ Inferiors!” exclaimed James.
“ Ay,” returned Lowen, “ for our
rank is by law established, while you,
aiming to become an actor, are but a
would-be vagabond. But not to dwell
too hard on thy nothingness; here are
the things which you covet to behold.
This is the first copy which the players
had of “ If this be not a good Play, the
Divel is in it.” This, poor Tom Dekker
gave to me, together with part of
Truth's Supplication to Candlelight,”
which quoth Tom, “ I wrote while I was
in the Poultry Compter, in the queen's
time.”” -
“There it is," said James; “you see
we men of genius are often without a
home, while muddling knaves, like you,
are permitted to inhabit good weather-
defying houses. But is it certain that
P 6
324 THE WITCH-FINDER.
Dekker went to that home of genius, the
Compter, for poverty ?”
“ Have you a doubt ? why then look
at close-fish, skin-flint-Henchlowe (as
we use to dub him), his memorandum of
the sum advanced to get him out.”
Here Lowen produced a scrap of paper
on which was written: –
“ Lent unto the company, the 4th of
February, 1598, to discharge Mr. Dekker
out of the Cownter in the Poultry, the sum
of fortie shillings, I say dd. to Thomas
Downton xxxxs.”
“ But what,” demanded James,
means dd ?”
“Why, “ delivered' to be sure.”
“ Nor was Tom the only one of our
good playwrights who was thus unhappy.
Know you not poor Ben was borne down
by want? He and Dekker, though they
used much to abuse each other, were
Content at times to row in the same boat,
THE WITCH-FINDER. 325
and that they were not over wealthy,
another of Henchlowe's scraps shall tes-
tify.“
“What says it?"
“ Listen,” cried Lowen, while he pro-
ceeded to read a document which he had
drawn forth, the wording of which was
as follows: –
“ Lent unto William Borne, alias Birde,
the 4th of December, 1602 to lend unto
Bengemyn Johnson and Thomas Dekker
in earnest of ther booke which they are
a writing called “ Pagge of Plim," the
some of xxxxs.”
“ Have you more?” James demanded.
“ Here,” said the veteran, “ is the full
history of the scrape into which several
of the playing fraternity got sometime
in 1624, when the king, by my Lord
Conway made it known that the Spanish
Ambassador had complained of a scan-
dalous comedy, acted by the king's play-
326 THE WITCH-FINDER.
ers, in which they had represented the
persons of the King of Spain and the
Conde de Gondomar, order having been
given before that no modern Christian
kings should be personated in stage
plays. Thereupon the lords of the
council were commanded to call before
them the poet that made the play, the
players that acted it, and also he who
licensed it, in order to report what pu-
nishment they should suffer. These,
however, are too long for you to peruse,
before you fall to on the loin of mutton,
which is now about to come in for break-
fast.” «
“ Why, truly, when I look at the
bundle of transmogrified rag called
paper which thou cuddlest there, I in-
cline to thy way of thinking. It would
be ill to endure present hunger, while
reading of past starvation.”
THE WITCH-FINDER. 327
“ Nay, what with making and mend-
ing, he did not starve.” ×
“ Making and mending! why you
speak of Tom as if he were a cobbler.”
“ So he was, of plays, for here is a
remembrancer of forty shillings which
were paid to him for “mending the playe
of Tasso.” ”
“ You said you remembered all his
plays being first given to the town.”
“To be sure I do, and many have I
acted in. Tom had a good taste in
acting, but aspired not to act himself.”
“ How then did he showhis finetaste?”
“ By praising those who did well.”
“ Jack Lowen for one.” i,
Even so. Ofttimes has he said,
by such and such a speech, “ thou hast
done better than Idid;' meaning thereby
that my repetition gave it intelligence
and beauty which before were not.”
328 THE WITCH-FINDER.
“ Was he ever fond of cramming tur-
keys?" A
* Not that I knoW.”
“ That he could fill a goose, is clear
from the alacrity with which you sucked
down flattery that would have choked
a bird of another feather.”
“ Perhaps, had you seen me then,
you had not deemed it flattery. I am
not what I was.”
“Why that I believe. It is scarcely
fair to judge of a play by its epilogue.
I can easily conceive you might have
been vastly superior to what you are,
without being tolerable. What were the
speeches which so pleased him?”
“ Many which I could recount, but
one especially delighted him in his
play, “ The Wonder of a Kingdom,'
which I have often repeated since from
my own feelings.”
“ Nay, then, say it now."
THE WITCH-FINDER, 329
“ Thus it set forth : –
* He that in riotous feasting wastes his store,
Is like a fair tree which in summer bore
Boughs laden till they crack'd with leaves and fruit,
Whose plenty lasting all men come unto’t
And pluck, and fill their laps, and carry away;
But when the boughs grow bare, and leaves decay,
And the great tree stand sapless, wither'd, dry,
Then each one casts on it a scornful eye.”
“ “There,” said Tom, clapping me on
the back, “ thou wast more than thy-
self, and even more than Jacomo Gentile,
such as I thought and wished the cha-
racter to be.” ”
“ I believe," said James, “ that this
speech was remembered to shame me for
my unfounded jokes. If so, no more, I
pray, for I would not seriously offend.
Trust me, father Lowen, though years
compel politeness, and forcethee to make
abow to time; and thoughthy hair turns
pale, as dismayed by the changes which
it has seen, yet I admire the unfaded
33O THE WITCH-FINDER.
lustre of the eye which once discoursed
in silent eloquence, where Shakspeare
and his brethren were present, and the
powerful memory and large comprehen-
sion, still adhering to thee, make thee a
valued relic of former days, and entitled
to high praise as a merry evergreen.”
The compliment was breathed with
sincerity and energy. It was not lost on
the old actor. He bowed with an air
of satisfaction, but uttered no word, for
his heart was full.
THE WITCH-FINDER. 331
CHAP. XV.
Lowen, though something later than Burbage, is said to
have been the first actor of Hamlet.
Rise and Progress of the English Theatre.
THE appearance of breakfast induced
James to withdraw his attention from
Lowen. Themutton and alewere brought
in, and he began to give the most satis-
factory proofs that his appetite had not
been impaired by want of rest; when
Robert, who had withdrawn on finding
James occupied, returned and addressed
him. n
“ I would know if you will now answer
me.” - - -
“What do you mean by that?” de-
manded James. “ What is that creditor-
look brought here for, as if I had been
332 THE WITCH-FINDER.
indebted to you such a courtesy these
six months ? Did I refuse you answer
eVer P”
«« Yes.”
“ Did I–when ? If I did, I suppose
it was because your scant speech was ill
understood. Why do you not speak
fully, and not let your words steal out
by ones and twos at a time, sly and
cautious, as felons breaking prison ?”
“ I would have spoken more, but for
the dirty rabble of mean foolish phrases
poured forth from you to block up my
malefactor thoughts (as you would de-
scribe them) in their passage.” »-
“ Indeed! Then, I doubt not, I saved
some of them from having execution
done upon them. But what is thy
question?”
** It is no question of mine, but comes
from my master.” -
“ And what does he desire?"
THE WITCH-FINDER. 333
“ To know where he shall find, with
greatest speed, young master Albert.”
“ Oh! does my honoured godfather
desire to see Rhapsody! That is another
matter. By the way, I must pay my
respects to him the moment he is stir-
ring.”
“ He has been up, and waiting for
your answer to his question more than
an hour.”
“ Marry,” cried Lowen, “then I have
made no small gap in good manners, not
to have sought him sooner.”
“ Tut; he would not expect you, as he
judges you have no fear of his retreat-
ing without paying his bill. But as
you are shuffling off to bleed your new
patient, present my humble duty to Mr.
Challoner, and say I desire the honour of
an interview.“ s
Lowen left the room, and James, per-
ceiving that Robert stood as expecting
334 THE WITCH-FINDER.
an answer, began with as much gravity as
he could call to his assistance on any
ordinary occasion, to speak on the sub-
ject of the application which had been
made to him.”
“ I will willingly give all the inform-
ation in my power, but I am fearful that,
doing so, I shall little benefit myself.
Think you, when Challoner sees my fa-
ther he will not strait fall to talking of
me?”
«« NO.”
“Why do you judge he will not speak
of me ?” -
“ Because he likes not foolish subjects
for conversation.”
“I understand your civility, but fear
your opinion has no reasonable found-
ation.”
“ Perhaps not, being bottomed on your
conduct.”
“ But think you he will not recount
my doings with these play-house fellows?
THE WITCH-FINDER, 335
This I am afraid of; for as my father
sent me to London to study medicine,
and expects by this that I am beginning
to act the physician, were he told that
I had played first in a tragedy, and then
in a droll at the Red Bull, he would be
as franticly sad as a hen is after sitting on
the eggs of a duck, when she first sees
herspoon-billed little ones betaking them-
selves to the water.” «.
“ I think you may dismiss your fears.
Master Challoner is too good to feel dis-
posed to say anything about your pro-
ceedings to your father.”
“ Now you are a comforter, Robert.
But I fear you flatter me.”
“ Not much.”
“Then you really mean to say, that
my godfather is so much pleased with my
manner and conversation, that he would
besorry to do anything that would an-
noy me?"
336 THE WITCH-FINDER-
“No; that was not it. He cares not
one farthing about you, but is too hu-
mane to speak of anything he has seen
of his godson, because he would not like
to shock his old friend, your father.”
James looked on the tranquil face of
Robert with astonishment. The settled
composure and apparent sincerity with
which he uttered a speech very similar
to those in which the party to whom it
was addressed frequently indulged, when
disposed to mirthful raillery, struck him
as extraordinary. He, however, was in-
genuous enough to confess that it did
him little wrong; and if not pleased
with what he had heard, he felt that he
had no right to resent it. »-
Without offering any reply, he directed
Robert to apprise his master, that he
would speedily supply the information
desired. He waited on Challoner, not
without some expectation that the com-
THE WITCH-FINDER. 387
ments of Robert would only prove the
prologue to a more serious lecture. But
the mind of Challoner was too much
occupied with what he had heard on the
preceding night to attend to other mat-
ters than those which were pressed upon
him by the dying words of Lady Mait-
land. His questions were few, and solely
directed to find the means of reach-
ing Albert without delay. The disorder
of his mind was such, that while he
eagerly listened to what he was told, his
thought seemed to bound forward to
other matters, and to want capacity to
retain in memory the name of the street
which he was to seek.
James remarked this confusion, and
reminded Lowen that he had been
there with him. The actor recalled the
circumstance of his having halted at
Master Abney’s on one occasion when
journeying to the Curtain theatre, and
VOL. I. Q
S38 THE WITCH-FINDER.
readily offered his services as guide. By
good fortune, he added, the boat in which
he, James, and Green had come thither
that morning, still remained waiting for
the tide to turn, which he calculated it
would do by the time they could get to
the river. «
Challoner at first declined to avail
himself of this offer. He wished to pro-
ceed to London on horseback, as the
quicker way of accomplishing his object;
but, informed by Robert that his horse
had cast a shoe on the preceding even-
1ng, and that he had sent the animal
with the one he himselfrode to be newly
shod, as some delay was unavoidable,
he agreed to go by water. Y.
Accompanied by Lowen, Challonerdi-
rected his steps towards the place where
the boat lay. Challoner stepped in, and
assisted the landlord of the Three Pi-
geons to follow. James bid them adieu,
THE WITCH-FINDER. 389
but a moment after jumped into the
boat, and announced it to be his inten-
tion to go with them the greater part of
their voyage, though not the whole of
it, as he wished to avoid encountering
his father till he had done something to
please him. This, he said, he could ac-
complish, by seeking Mr. Lilly, the con-
juror, to learn from him how witches
might be attacked with safety and effect.
The boat glided swiftly and pleasantly
before the tide. Challoner spoke little,
but the loquacity of Lowen and James
fully made up for taciturnity on his
part. When they approached Lambeth,
James requested to be put ashore.
“I again bid you adieu, godfather,"
said he; “ and as you will shortly see my
own natural and truly-begotten papa,
without wishing to fatigue, by soliciting
you to apprise him of my last night's
toil and this morning's travelling it
Q 2
340 THE WITCH-FINDER.
would, perhaps, not be too much for you
to hint, that filial love now carries me
to Lambeth, to the house of Old John
Tradescant, the gardener, in the hope
offinding there the wonder-working Bill
Lilly, that I may consult him on the
means of tackling the devils and witches
which frequent Redburn, to the end that
my father's pork may be preserved from
all farther peril, by his pigs enjoying
good health till they are killed, to be
cured afterwards.”
The boat again proceeded on her way,
and London began to open on their view.
It was not a partial glimpse through the
arches of a bridge which was then ob-
tained from the Thames near Lambeth
church, but all the loftiest edifices of the
metropolis might be noted, and the many
palaces–palaces in all but name, which
graced the water's edge. «.
Suffolk or Northumberland House, as
THE WITCH-FINDER. 341
it is now called, the original name having
been restored, was then not cut off from
the Thames, as at present by numerous
intervening buildings, but its gardens
extended to the river, which was repelled
by a strong stone wall, in which some
twenty openings appeared to accommo-
date those who promenaded the grounds
with a view of the sports, or other objects
of attraction on the water. West of the
centre was a door, by which the noble
inhabitant was accustomed to pass to his
barge, and a small circular tower appear-
ed at the eastern corner of the wall.
Nothing besides, interfered with the view
of the princely mansion erected on the
site of the chapel of Saint Mary Roun-
ceval. York House, then the property
of Lord Fairfax, next presented its
magnificent front. This had been erected
in the time of James the First, and
had now received from time that som-
Q 3
S4,2 THE wITCH-FINDER.
bretone which best becomes such massy
erections, while its strength and even
the sharpness of its finish remained un-
impaired. It was defended by a low
indented wall, built of the same material
as the house. The main body of the
building, beneath which a spacious ar-
cade was seen, connected two noble
wings, the fronts of which approached
within a few yards of the wall. The
eastern wing terminated on a line, or
nearly so with that admired specimen of
architecture by Inigo Jones, York stairs,
which still remains, and which is all that
remains of the splendour then witnessed
on that spot. The gardens lay eastward,
and these conducted the eye to Dur-
ham House, Salisbury House, Worces-
ter House, and Somerset House, which
successively presented themselves, with
all their varieties of grandeur and an-
tiquity. The building last named was
THE WITCH-FINDER. 348
the palace of the Protector Somerset, al-
tered and in some respects modernised
for the reception of Queen Henrietta
Maria, by the celebrated architect whose
name has already been mentioned. The
extended years of Lowen enabled him to
point out with precision the changes
which had been made in the general ap-
pearance of the building, and the scenes
which had been acted; in some of which,
those of a mimic description, he himself
had played a part. It was therefore an
interesting spot to him, and he would not
have failed toindulge his loquacity on the
subject, had not “metal more attractive"
engaged his attention, for now, the boat
having passed the Temple gardens, they
approached Blackfriars, and Bankside,
rich in all that could interest an old actor
of that century, lay before him.
His eyes glistened while he prepared
to direct Challoner's attention to objects
Q 4.
34,4 THE WITCH-FINDER.
which he never doubted must strike every
one as they did him. He saw Paris
Garden Stairs, and the lane leading to
that once favourite resort of the votaries
of pleasure. That, he remarked, was a
path which he doubted not his compan-
ion like himself had often trodden.
“ You, Master Challoner,” said he,
“ I think are old enough to have mingled
with the merry gallants, who used to
visit Holland's Leaguer.”
“ Ihave seen the place.”
“Seen it!” echoed Lowen, “ marry,
I should like to know the man who was
a man, and in London seven oreight and
twenty years ago, (you, though, were
almost too young) that had not seen it.”
“ I remember the moat and the gar-
dens.” »
“To be sure you do; but as for the
mistress, I believe I have the advantage
of you there.” . «. «.
THE WITCH-FINDER. 345
* I have heard her name.”
“I warrant you, Donna Britannica
Hollandia, as we used to call her (Trio
juncta in une) “the arch mistress of the
wicked woman of Eutopia,' is not soon
to be forgotten. O the gallant riots that
I have seen there, when running warm
with the generous wines of the Falcon,
I, and Ned Alleyn, and his brother-in-
law, Henchlowe, used to scamper off to
finish the afternoon after play was done.
Once I remember Ned, (this was before
he thought of building a college at Dul-
wich,) having been with us at the Globe,
sees a buxom wench in the little arbour,
in the corner behind the gate-house, and
forthwith salutes her very lovingly. Now,
mark, I, not an hour before, had met
with this same jade, who jilted me while
I was chalking out in large comely
letters, “This is the palace of the King,”
on a board, which was to be hung up
Q 5
346 THE WITCH-FINDER.
for the benefit and edification of all
comers to our next day's play, which
was Hamlet. While I was thus em-
ployed, for I liked not to trust to others
what was of such moment, to make those
to whom I played know where it was
meet to suppose I was, off went the slut
to “ Nob's Island,” so we were wont to
call the Leaguer. I followed –”
“Nay, Lowen, spare the recital. Your
trouble will be in vain, for I cannot listen
to such matters at this time.”
“Truly, Sir, it appears to me that you
are a cup too low. Old as my limbs are,
I would propose that we should fetch
a walk to the Falcon, and taste the liquor,
but that you are in such haste.”
“ Let us not delay; and, trust me, it is
not refreshment that can benefit me.”
“ Ifear,” said Lowen,“you take things
too much to heart. Affairs, no doubt, are
sadly changed. The time has been when
THE WITCH-FINDER. 347
coming down the river thus, Bankside
would not have looked as it does now.
There would you have seen the flag of
the Swan flying. That though it was not
a play-house which had the best actors,
was well to look upon. Then merrily
waved the flag of the Globe, and the
bear-baiting theatre mounted another.
By the way, the bearward has his
streamer flying now, so that it seems
his company of brutes still perform,
though men may not show what they
can do.”
“ I do not see the Globe," said Chal-
loner, who deemed that at least to be an
object worthy of notice.
“ Nor could you, even when playing
was in its glory, save for a short time
after the fire, which cleared some of the
houses away, but which are now set up
again taller than before; so that were the
Globe not depressed as it is, you could
Q 6
34,8 THE WITCH-FINDER.
not view it, but its flag might even here
be commanded. That, however, I fear
me poor Jack Lowen will not live to
behold again.” W.
Occupied as he was with other cares,
Challoner could not help feeling for
the sorrow of the veteran who, looking
towards the former haunts of pleasure,
to him the unfailing source of profit
and renown, could scarcely refrain
from tears while he contemplated the
altered scene. The mean and neglected
appearance of the houses nearest the
river, told distinctly ofthe ruinous change
which the zeal of the Puritans had doom-
ed the inhabitants of Bankside to ex-
perience. Nothing of the Swan could
be seen, and the falling and now useless
flag-staff of the Globe, was all that Lowen
could discern of the theatre, where the
works of Shakspeare, with their immortal
author, had once been admired. He
THE WITCH-FINDER. 349
turned from the view with emotion, as
the boat put in to Cole-harbour stairs,
on the opposite side of the river, and
seemed anxious to give up the recollec-
tions in which he had just before wanted
Challoner to participate.
They proceeded as fast as the age and
weakness of Lowen would admit towards
the place where, as he was instructed by
James, he might hope to meet Albert.
Great was his regret on arriving in the
Old Jewry, to learn that Albert had left
about an hour before, to accompany the
senior Thorpe to Redburn. He deter-
mined immediately to proceed thither,
but was not able to execute his intention
till the afternoon, through the non-arrival
of Robert with the horses. He would
have taken a seat in the St. Alban’s stage,
but wastoolate; for that, in order that the
journey might conclude before night, set
off by seven in the morning. The dif-
350 THE WITCH-FINDER.
ficulty at length removed, he bade adieu
to Lowen, and commenced his jour-
ney.
It was late in the evening when he
reached Redburn. Thorpe and Albert
had preceded him but a short time. The
former was not a little amazed at the
anxious and repeated enquiries for Al-
bert, which assailed his ears from him
who till now had been resolute to avoid
seeing the youth. A new disappoint-
ment awaited Challoner. Albert had
left home immediately after their return,
and the enquiries made in the neigh-
bourhood where Thorpe considered he
was likely to be found, proved fruit-
less. Two hours were thus consumed,
when Challoner stated it to be his in-
tention to repair to a small tenement
which he had owned for many years,
but which had long been occupied by the
man who had brought the flower to him
THE WITCH-FINDER. 351
at the inn. There he intended to pass
the might, but as he thought not of rest,
he desired that Albert might be directed
to seek him the moment he arrived.
352 THE WITCH-FINDER.
CHAP. XVI.
Ovaine philosophie and bootless artes,
Such seeds of learned ignorance to sow,
Where skille's disgrace, and wisedome's folly grow !
SToRER.
It is necessary that we should account
for the absence of Albert. When he
reached the abode of Mr. Thorpe, he
escaped as quickly as he could from the
congratulations and enquiries of Mrs.
Thorpe, and retreated towards St. Al-
bans. «
His object was to perform a duty im-
posed upon him by humanity. Knowing
how thoroughly convinced Thorpe was,
that the miscarriages in his domestic
affairs as well as his bodily ailments were
occasioned by witchcraft, and knowing
also how strong his impression, that
THE WITCH-FINDER. 353
Dame Neville was the party who prac-
tised against him, he was not a little afraid
that right, or wrong, his wrath pointing
that way, would enable Matthew Hopkins
to persecute and torture the unfortunate
person he suspected, under the pretence
of trying the question of her guilt or
innocence. »
He therefore resolved to apprize her
of what was intended, that she might
consult her safety by flight, or prepare to
offer such explanation as would serve for
a defence. »
The night was tremendously stormy,
and as he passed through the lonely paths
which led to what had now been for a
considerable period called by Thorpe and
his family, “the witch's cottage;” he
could not but recall the wonders which
that person, since his interview with
Hopkins, had declared himself to have
witnessed on the night when, accompa-
354 THE WITCH-FINDER.
nied by Challoner, he had traversed the
same ground.
Though Albert strongly inclined tO
the opinion that Dame Neville was guilt-
less, it sprung not from a steadfast
belief that crime like that imputed was
impossible. At that time absurdities,
which could not impose upon children
mow, were countenanced by such grave
authorities, and by facts so strongly at-
tested, that in a young man it required
no inconsiderable effort of reason to
doubt their truth.
Nor will this excite surprise, when it
is remembered, that down even to a later
period than the date of this narrative,
the most enlightened judges tried, and
left for execution, unfortunate persons
who were accused of witchcraft. The
clear, distinct, and most positive state-
ments made on oath, by those who were
witnesses on such trials, and who were
THE WITCH-FINDER. 355
in many cases persons of unblemished
reputation; the reports furnished by
men believed to be impartial and intel-
ligent, who had been appointed to inves-
tigate cases, in which infernal agency
was the subject of complaint, and, more
than all, the dying declarations of the
bewildered creatures, persecuted into
confession, were enough to startle the
most sceptical. Albert was sincerely
persuaded that Dame Neville had done
nothing to merit the punishment which
he feared awaited her; but that the
tales of witchcraft which he had heard
were utterly destitute of foundation,
was more than he had ever ventured to
assert, however he might wish to be-
lieve it.
As he advanced towards the abode of
Dame Neville, he frequentlypaused, and
looked round to observe if aught pre-
sented itself which Thorpe or any one
356 THE WITCH-FINDER.
inclined to yield ready credence in such
matters, could regard as confirmatory of
the persuasion that supernatural agency
was really employed. Albert did this
repeatedly, but he did it in vain. Once
while his eyes were turned towards the
black, broad, and almost interminable
line of the abbey, he thought he per-
ceived a human figure descending to-
wards the path he himself was exploring.
The glimpse was momentary, and he
suspected that fancy, and not vision,
had produced the image.
But when he was passing into the last
field which he had to cross, he heard a
rustling near him, which he was quite
sure was not ideal. He remembered
what Thorpe had told of the circum-
stances of his walk in the same direction;
he looked towards that part of the
hedge from which the sound had seemed
to proceed, but could distinguish nothing
THE WITCH-FINDER. 357
more than the low bank, and the thick
bushes which surmounted it. Albert
was about to proceed, when a ray of
light was thrown full on his counte-
I13) CE. %.
“Who goes there?" he demanded; and
he well remembered that a flash of light
was one of the proofs that witches were
in motion. No answer was returned ;
the light had vanished, and he could not,
though he listened in breathless silence,
hear the slightest movement in the direc-
tion from which it had been shown.
After a pause, finding no answer re-
turned to his enquiry, he turned back
and walked towards where he judged
the bearer of the light must have
stood. He went so far as to be enabled
to see the bank distinctly, and to per-
ceive that no one was there. The cir-
cumstance was singular, but he could
easily conceive that some wanderer might
358 THE WITCH-FINDER.
have passed that way, who, curious to
know what sort of being approached,
might not care to be questioned himself.
Unwilling to give such a trifle further
consideration, he resumed his march
to the Cottage.
Albert now entered Dame Neville's
little enclosure. He saw from the case-
ment that a light was still burning in the
cottage, but a curtain which descended
before it precluded him from seeing
more. He heard a dog bark, but not
attaching quite so much importance to
this salute from Dame Neville's familiar,
as Thorpe would have done, he gently
knocked. A voice within called to some
one, and appeared to Albert to an-
nounce the arrival. What was said he
did not very distinctly hear. The words,
« Come at last,” were all that he could
eollect, and from this, connecting it
with what had just before surprised him,
THE WITCH-FINDER. 859
he inferred, with some amazement, that
at that late hour another visitor was ex-
pected. N
The door was opened by Dame Neville
herself. She started on perceiving Albert,
and tears filled her eyes, while she ex-
pressed her wonder at his unlooked-for
presence, and bade him welcome.
An aged female, who acted as a ser-
vant, placed a chair near the chimney,
and introduced a new supply of wood to
the fire. Having supported Dame Ne-
ville to her chair, Albert seated himself,
and began to prepare without delay for
the performance of the task which he
had undertaken.
“You seem agitated," said he, “ by
my coming to your dwelling at so late
an hour. Pray dismiss apprehension,
and do me the justice to believe that my
visit is not intended to harm you.”
“To harm me?” she repeated, “ God
36O THE WITCH-FINDER.
knows, Albert, I have not entertained
so unworthy a thought.”
“ Then why do you still tremble, and
why do your tears flow ?”
“ Because – because the surprise
was too much for me, feeble as I now am.
Thus taken at unawares, I could ill sus-
tain the – the – and – I–I expected
another person.”
“ Such being the case, it may be well
that I should perform my errand as
quickly as possible.” -
“ Not so, it seems long since I saw
you. Be not in haste now.”
“I cannot with prudence delay. The
lateness of the hour, for the abbey clock
has tolled nine, must hurry me away;
but I could not endure to pass this night
without seeing you.” -
“ Has anything chanced, then, which
you would unfold?"
“ Much. You may remember that
THE WITCH-FINDER. 861
some months since, we talked of your
increasing celebrity as a witch. The re-
port has of late still more rapidly gained
ground, and attracted in this neighbour-
hood general notice, and I lament to add,
general belief.”
“To me, Albert, it matters little what
the world say. I am, however, afflicted
by the kñowledge of that to which you
have called my attention. I am sorry
for it on account of my poor neighbours.
Formerly, they gladly came to receive
such little benefits as it was in my power
to dispense. The slight knowledge which
I have, enabled me to relieve them from
hurts, which they occasionally sustained.
Now the timid sufferers having been
told that I could only heal by unlaw-
ful means, are afraid to seek my door.
But these follies must soon die away."
“I am afraid not. At present they are
on the increase. Farmer Jackson's cart
VOL. I. R
362 THE wITCH-FINDER.
stuck in the gateway at the Cross Keys in
Hertford town last week, as it was sup-
posed by your contrivance, and could not
be by any means removed till he had
said the Lord's prayer thrice, which it
was supposed broke the charm, and the
horse being backed then, it went in as
usual. Gaffer Wilkins reports that it
was you who caused his pony to take
fright last week at South Mimms, which
occurred at nightfall, as he tells, in con-
sequence of one of your imps having
placed a dead man's skull on a post, with
a candle in it, which afterwards, on strict
enquiry being made, was turned by the
power of the devil into a thing like a
turnip, with the inside scooped out, and
holes to represent eyes, nose, and mouth
cut in the rind.”
“ It is hard, that a poor lonely woman
must be held responsible for the ac-
cidents which unskilfulness may occa-
THE WITCH-FINDER. D63
sion, or for the graceless frolics in which
idle boys indulge. Parents, methinks,
would not too harshly blame imprudent
matches, if they bore in mind all the
persecutions to which females who re-
main single are exposed.” -
“This, Madam, I have sometimes
thought, and have felt indignant when
I have seen a female in the bloom of
life scoffed at as an old maid, because
she had not been so thoughtless as to
marry imprudently, or perhaps because
untoward circumstances excluded her
from all opportunities of becoming a
Wife.” -
“The thoughtless world look but at
the fact that a female remains unmar-
ried, and this is supposed all-sufficient
to prove her a cold, sordid, unsociable
being, dead to the kindly feelings ofna-
ture, though perhaps, in many cases,
were the truth developed, it would be
R 2
364 THE WITCH-FINDER-
found that it was faithful love which
doomed a heart true to nature, and gene-
rously warm, to pine in solitude.”
Albert prepared to reply, when a
knock was heard at the door. He re-
membered the words which had reached
his ear as he himself approached; the
form, which for a moment he thought
he discerned on his way, and the rustling
and the light which had caught his at-
tention. Recalling these, he looked with
some curiosity for the appearance of the
party, to whom the door was now opened.
He saw a female, of about thirty,
whose face was not unknown to him. She
started at perceiving him, and would
have retired, but was encouraged to re-
main by the voice of Dame Neville, who
assured her that she had no cause for
alarm, as the young gentleman there
was not disposed to injure her or any
body else. -. A
THE WITCH-FINDER. 365
* I humbly pray your pardon, Dame,”
said the woman, “ for not coming to
you, so good as you have always been to
me, before this time of night; but peo-
ple say such naughty things, that though
I wo'n't believe a word of them. I am
afraid of their seeing that I come here.
Do you know what they now tell of
you?"
“ No; nor does it matter at this mo-
ment, my good woman.“
“Why, John Dobson says, you came
into his house last night in the shape of
atoad, and he took up the toad and threw
it into the fire, when it went bounce,
like a great gun, and vanished up the
chimbly, where he don't doubt but the
devil was waiting with your broomstick
for you to ride home.”
“The people are strangely infatu-
ated.”
“ Then there is Mistress Betty Blabit
B 3
366 THE WITCH-FfNDER.
is sure that you went to her house like a
large tom-eat, but upon her crying out
“ Begone, Satan,' you vamished, she says,
but first knocked down a bowi of butter
milk, which she found you drinking
when she came home.”
“It is miserable to be thus accused;
but no more of this new, good woman.
When I am brought before those who
are fit to decide in these matters, it
will be time enough to reply to such in-
conceivable follies"
“ Very true, Dame,” said the woman,
“ and they are wicked people that tell
such fibs; but I can't help it; and you
know poor people, who have nothing to
depend on but their character-”
“ Must guard against all suspicion.
This I readily acknowledge.”
“ So that I hope you will not be angry
with me for not coming in the day-time.”
“Not at all, my good woman, I but
º.
THE wITCH-FINDER. 367
wished to give the cloak and hood which
I told you should be yours before the
coming of winter. There they are, with
a few other articles for the use of your
family.” - . . .
The manner in which Dame Neville
spoke, though mild in the extreme, in-
dicated something like impatience that
her female visitor should retire. She
understood it, and prepared to retreat.
“I am vastly beholding to you, I
am sure,” said the woman, as she turned
towards the door, “ and will make haste
to leave you alone with the young
gentleman, and so put on the cloak you
have given me when I get outside the
door. The young gentleman, I dare
say, is not afraid of walking alone, or else
he should be welcome to my company,
if I waited an hour.”
The good natured simplicity with
which this was uttered, almost provoked
R 4 «-
368 THE WITCH-FINDER.
a laugh from Albert, who could not but
feel, while he looked on the ruddy,
smiling, and not ill-favoured counte-
nance of the speaker, that it was very
possible to travel with a companion of
Pess attraction. --
“You are very good,” Dame Neville
replied, “ but I believe the gentleman
does not feel it necessary to crave your
protection.–Good night."
The poor woman apologised for the
freedom she had used ; assured Albert
that she meantnoharm, and then retired.
“Thisperson,” said he, “ has brought
a melancholy confirmation of what I had
before told you. She does not dare to
call on her benefactress but when the
darkness of night promises to save her
from detection. The report is now be-
comingsoprevalent, that in my judgment
you will do well to fly from the impend-
ing storm.“
THE WITCH-FINDER: 369
“Surely, Albert, flight would be con-
strued to my prejudice.”
“ I cannot deny it, but it would save
your person from peril.”
“ That is, supposing I am proved
guilty.” »- -
“ No, the preliminary trial is in itself
no slight punishment."
“This cannot take place till deposi-
tions have been formally made against
me on oath.” -
“ But these will soon be forthcoming.
I am grieved to add, they are likely to be
supplied by a man whom I much respect
for his general character, but who be-
lieves he has been ruined, and is likely
to be destroyed by your machinations.”
sº Indeed!” «.
* And further, my coming was to warn
you that the cunning man, as he is called,
Matthew Hopkins, who has brought so
R 5 »
370 THE WITCH-FINDER.
many poor creatures to a miserable end,
is about to repair hither for the purpose
of making enquiries concerning you.”
“ Let the man come. If he have judg-
ment, which sure he must have, or he
would not be so famous; I cannot fear
his enquiries.” -
“Innocence has not always the proofs
of integrity at hand, and I therefore
give your this warning of what I know to
be in progress. I fear your alarm and
surprise may be mistaken for guilt, when
the meditated enquiry shall begin, and
am much disposed to advise that for a
season you withdraw.” -
“ That will be taken for a con-
fession of guilt. No – no, I must re-
main and face my erring pursuers, be
the consequences what they may. But
my best thanks are due to you," she
added, taking him by the hand, on which
14*
THE WITCH-FINDER. 371
a burning tear descended while she
spoke. “ You are kind, Albert. God
bless you." »
He returned her pressure, and while
he looked on her distress, experienced
unwonted sorrow. Having again urged
what he had before recommended, but
without effect, he departed.
The most perfect gloom prevailed
when Albert commenced retracing the
path which had conducted him to the
cottage. He had seen nothing in the
abode of the supposed witch at all cal-
culated to encourage a belief in super-
natural agency, nor did he feel any of
those idle apprehensions which at that
period disturbed the peace of many a
credulous individual, who in the ordinary
concerns of life passed for a sensible man;
but he felt the darkness and solitude
irksome, and it would have been no un-
pleasant surprise for him, had he found
«- R 6
372 THE WITCH-FINDER.
the poor woman who had so kindly of
fered the benefit of her society had
waited for him.
He was musing on the unfortunate
situation in which Dame Neville stood,
when he perceived that he had reached
the place to which his attention had
been attracted on his way to the cottage.
For a moment he paused, a light sud-
denly flashed on him as before, and he
now plainly perceived the figure of a
man.
“Who is that?” he loudly demanded.
A deep groan which seemed breathed
by one in the last agonies of death was
the only answer. The light was shrouded
from his view, and the bearer of it could
no longer be distinguished from the
dense gloom which surrounded him.
Albert was quite satisfied that some
one had retreated before him, but much
he doubted if the person who fled, and
THE WITCH-FINDER. 878
the individual who had groaned, were
the same. His opinion, indeed, went
strongly the other way, for the melan-
choly sound which he had heard indi-
cated, as he thought, extreme weakness.
He questioned the ability of the sufferer
to remove, and he lingered some minutes
under the impression that a fellow-crea-
ture overtaken by some fearful accident,
might stand in need of assistance. But
his repeated calls produced no reply.
Longer to remain seemed useless; and he
decided on making the best of his way
to Redburn. : -
374 THE WITCH-FINDER.
CHAP. XVII.
He shuddered, as he supposed that his own waxen eſ
figy was revolving and melting at the charmed fire; the
changes of the sensations told him when wanton cruelty
damped the flame, to waste it lingeringly, or roused it
in the impatience of revenge. .
Retrospective Review.
ThoRPE was waking, and somewhat
amazed at the absence of Albert. He
questioned him respecting his wanderings
after nightfall, and expressed some fear
that he had been induced to give into
the dissipated habits which had often
been matter of complaint against James.
Albert did not say all he might have
urged in his defence, but excused himself
in few words; and Thorpe was too eager
to impart what he thought good, and not
unimportant tidings, to be very minute in
his enquiries.
THE wITCH-FINDER. 375
“ Better prospects, young man,” said
he, “are, I trust, about to open for you;
I pray that they may be blasted by no
malignant influence as mine have been.
Oh! what a throb was that,” he ex-
claimed, wildly starting from his seat.
“What is it disturbs you sir?” enquired
Albert. -
“The horrid incantations of that devil
incarnate, the witch who still persecutes
me. I hoped, as I journeyed home,
being comparatively easy, that the steps
I was about to take, being known to her,
had already in some measure intimidated
her; but, alas! I again feel thehellish glow
of the fire, before which the image of this
wretched frame is dissolving."
“ Trust me, Sir, I think you deceive
yourself That Dame“Neville acts not
thus by you, I am sure – that no one
else can, I confidently believe.”
“It is she – it is she alone. Beware,
376 "THE WITCH-FINDER.
Albert; you, perhaps, are in more danger
than I am. Me shepersecutes, but you,
I half suspect, she hopes to seduce to
become a worshipper of Satan like her-
Self.”
“ In this you wrongher, Sir, – indeed
you do; and for yourself, let me entreat
you to seek elsewhere for the true cause
of your malady. But what is it you
were about to impart?"
“ I will endeavour to tell you. The
heat is now a little abated, and I can
proceed. The benefactor with whose
kindness you have long been acquainted,
and whose name you have so often
implored me to communicate, is no other
than my old friend Challoner.”
“ Indeed! This is grateful intelli-
gence.” st -
es Hitherto he has declined meeting
you, but now he is very desirous of
your society." -

THE WITCH-FINDER. 377.
“ Is he here ?– Let me fly to him –
my preserver – my patron – my more
than parent!” & :: - . . . . . . . .
“ Moderate your warmth – Goodhea-
vens, the pain returns –Relentless hag!"
he cried, meaning to apostrophise Dame
Neville as a sudden spasm made him
start with agony, “ will nothing appease
your fury ? Torture me still," he added,
gnashing his teeth with rage, “ but Mat-
thew Hopkins will soon arrive, and then
your turn to suffer may come.”
And having a little relieved his mind
by the vengeance thus breathed, he be-
came more calm. The pain which he
endured seemed to abate, and he again
addressed Albert to check the impetuous
haste with which he was disposed to seek
Challoner, and to makeehim acquainted
with some of the peculiarities of his pa-
tron. He informed him that the dwel-
ling which he had previously described,
378 THE WITCH-FINDER.
and which was well known to Albert,
had for the last twelve years been inha-
bited by a poor man of good character,
who paid no rent, but who undertook
the care of a rose, on which Challoner
seemed to set a higher value than had
ever been set on a Viceroy, Semper Au-
gustus, or any other tulip, even when
the tulipomania, as it had been called,
was in its very zenith. Beyond this he
was not aware that the rustic had any
duty to perform, but to tend a small
mountain ash which was in the garden,
and which Challoner regarded with al-
most as much interest as the rose itself.
In the years which had passed since he
left that neighbourhood, he had several
times been at Redburn, and after looking
to the rose he had never failed to enquire
into the growth of the mountain ash,
and to look to it himself. The interest
with which, through so long a period
THE WITCH-FINDER. 379
he had watched over the flower, and the
tree, was a riddle which he could not
explain, but such being the case, he cau-
tioned Albert against doing anything
that mightruffle his friend and protector,
with respect to either, as in some in-
stances he had known him to be as vio-
lent and indignant, as in general he was
indulgent and humane.”
Albert expressed his thanks for the
information thus communicated, and pre-
pared to seek Challoner. He left
Thorpe, and in a few moments found
himself at the door of the rural abode
to which he had been invited and di-
rected.
On knocking, he was instantly admit-
ted by the man who had been mentioned
as constantly residing there. He spoke
not, but to tell Albert that he had been
impatiently expected. The latter passed
up stairs and approached an apartment,
380 THE WITCH-FINDER-
the door of which stood open. Albert
saw Challoner, and could not help being
struck with his disordered air and strange
appearance. He was seated at a table,
on which the rose which had been
mentioned was placed. His left arm
encircled the flower which he seemed
to caress, and his attention was so en-
tirely engrossed by that, or by what was
passing in his mind, that though Al-
bert purposely made some noise to an-
nounce his coming, Challoner remained
unconscious that he had ceased to be
alone.
Suddenly he left the seat which he
had occupied, and paced the room .
with hasty steps, but without looking
round. L.
* Poor victim,” he sighed, and while
speaking he raised his hand to remove
a tear which trembled on his eyelid. It
was in that moment that he recognised
THE witch-FINDER. 381
Albert, and sprung forward to embrace
him. -
“No prostration," he cried, perceiving
Albert about to kneel. “You imagine
that you owe me gratitude; I feel
that reproach would not be ill bestowed.
But so far as you are concerned, I hope
to atone for the past. You have become
dearer to me than you can by possibility
surmise. To promote your happiness
will henceforth be among the objects
which I have most at heart.”
“ For the past,” said Albert, “ I would
offer the humblest, warmest thanks of a
sincerely grateful bosom.” »
“Speak not thus. I have wronged
you, boy, through life. Afrightful error
has made me negligent of the dearest
charge ever given to man.” --
Albert looked with unspeakable 31N1aZE-
ment on his patron. This self-reproach
struck him as so utterly at variance with At
382 THE WITCH-FINDER.
the truth, that he almost doubted his own
senses, and could scarcely believe that
he had heard correctly.
“ Pardon me, Sir," he said,.“ but I
am tempted to controvert that asser-
tion.“ --
“Your gratitude is my reproach. But
my speech seems incoherent. In truth,
I am too much agitated at present to
explain, or longer to look on you whom
I have so much coveted to see. Refresh-
ments and a bed are provided in the next
room; leave me now, Albert. It may
appear strange that I should ask you to
retire so soon, but repress curiosity till
the morning; then I hope to be more
myself. Very lately I spoke that which
I know must have given you pain. Con-
sider it unsaid. Circumstances are no
longer the same, and Celia Lesley shall
be yours. Thus much I deem it right
tostate now. I could not endure to pass
THE WITCH-FINDER. 383
á single night without doing it. Now
retire to indulge in dreams of happiness,
soon I trust to be realised.”
With these words he folded the youth
affectionately to his bosom. He then
waved his hand for Albert to withdraw.
The signal was obeyed.
Albert found a variety of refreshments
prepared for him, but the kind care was
useless. He was not disposed to eat, for
the strangely varied circumstances of
the night pressed too strongly on his
imagination to leave him sensible of the
ordinary claims of nature. The altered
tone of Challoner with respect to Celia,
invited the most blissful anticipations,
but these could not be indulged but in
the company of an excruciating curiosity,
which panted to know what important .
event could have produced a change
not less fortunate than it was extraop-
dinary. s -
384 THE WITCH-FINDER.
But, at allevents, he had a right to exult
in the altered situation of his affairs, and
he felt disposed to surrender himself up
to the pleasurable glow which this con-
viction was calculated to produce, when
the melancholy circumstances in which
Dame Neville was placed, presented
themselves to his mind. Close on the
recollection of her danger pressed that of
what he had heard and seen on his way
from her cottage. The man he had per-
ceived might be a lurking assassin; – the
groan which he had heard that of a dying
victim. While it yet rung in his ear he
had made, as it appeared to him, all rea-
sonable exertion to discover whence it
came, but he now regretted that he had
not done more.
Pursuing that train of ideas which na-
turally sprung from the incidents of the
night, he next reviewed, with some sur-
prise, what Thorpe had deemed it neces-
THE WITCH-FINDER. 385
sary to tell him ofthe impetuous character
of Challoner, and especially the singular
tenure by which it appeared an in-
dividual had, through many years, kept
possession of the tenement of which he
was then an inmate. That a rose tree
and a mountain ash, however beautiful
in their season, should thus occupy the
attention of a man who, for years, had
been an exile from England, and who was
little disposed to indulge in trifling and
fanciful amusements, appeared strange.
He had heard of eccentric flights of
fancy, for which no reasoning could
account, and these seemed to be of their
number. -
Though he had been expected by
Challoner, Albert had remarked that his
air and general appearance wore not
that aspect of composure which he had
previously remarked as his distinguish-
VOL. I. S
h
386 THE WITCH-FINDER.
ing characteristic. The words which had
fallen from him while he was unconscious
that any one was within hearing, were
remarkable:
“ Poor victim !” he had heard him
distinctly exclaim. To whom would this
apply ? For a moment the recollection
of the groan again intruded. But this
he repelled, as connected with something
like ingratitude, which could thus, even
in thought, sin against so generous, so
constant a benefactor as he had found in
Challoner.
He felt satisfied that he had quite
dismissed the injurious idea; but though
he had now divested himself of his
clothes, and rested on the bed prepared
for him, it was in vain that he courted
sleep. Forgetfulness was more than
once stealing over him, when something
which had struck him as extraordinary in
THE WTTCH-FINDER. 387
the course of the night occurred to
him, and he started from his pillow as
restless as ever.
Thus miserably writhing, tortured by
a variety of thoughts, yet incapable of
thinking on anything with steadiness, he
listened to every sound that occasionally
broke in upon the general stillness. The
wind rustling among the neighbouring
trees, the barking of a dog at some dis-
tance, and the pattering of the rain
against the casement, were all that
had caught his attention for hours,
when he thought he heard a slight
noise, different from any he had pre-
viously noticed. To him it seemed to
be that of a person digging. Again his
thoughts travelled back to the spot near
which he was almost persuaded that he
had heard the last groan of an expiring
fellow-creature, and again he checked
S 2
388 THE WITCH-FINDER.
himself and mentally reproved the
feverish weakness which thus sought to
connect every object and every sound
with that which had startled and aston-
ished him.
He wished to believe that he was in
error altogether, and that no such noise
as he had last imagined had in reality
struck upon his ear, when he heard anew
what had before arrested his attention
more distinctly than ever. To doubt
that some one was digging, and in the
garden of the cottage, was absolutely
impossible. He rose from his bed, ap-
proached the window of the chamber,
and partially removed the curtain. Dark
as it was, he could see a man occupied
with a spade, which he used with extreme
caution, as if fearful of being overheard.
Who it was that thus laboured Albert
could not determine, and was at a loss to
THE WITCH-FINDER. 389
divine. In height and figure the in-
dividual resembled Challoner. That he
should work there at all, and especially
at that hour, and in such unfavourable
weather, were circumstances so utterly
improbable, that Albert could not believe
it was reallyhispatron. But he was equally
at a loss to guess why any one else
should come there, to do that which he
plainly discovered somebody to be doing.
If he found it difficult to decide who
the person could be that was thus en-
gaged, he was not less puzzled to
judge of the immediate object of the
individual.
He was careful to hold the curtain so
that his own person should not be seen.
This precaution was not wholly unneces-
sary, for he remarked the person in the
garden frequently looked round, as if to
discover whether he was observed. He
390 THE WITCH-FINDER.
persevered in his toil for more than an
hour, and repeatedly descended into the
hole which he had dug. Albert could
not see that he had deposited anything
in it, when it seemed to him that it was
being filled up. A moderate time suf-
ficed to complete this part of the task,
and the operator retired.
Bewildered andamazed, Albert thought
of betaking himself to his bed, when a
momentary flash of light, like that which
had been directed towards his own
countenance when going to and coming
from Dame Neville's, filled him with new
amazement. He heard a step softly
ascending the stairs, and some one passed
into the next room. That this was
Challoner he had no reason to doubt,
but it was almost his determination to
demand who approached, when the ne-
cessity for doing so was removed by the
THE WITCH-FINDER. 391
opening of his door, and the entrance
of Challoner.
“ How is this, young man,” said Chal-
loner, “ that you are not sleeping, and
ndt even in bed?” -
“I have been in bed,” Albert replied,
“ but finding myself feverish and wake-
ful, I arose for a time, but am about
betaking myself to my couch again."
“I will not detain you from it; but I
wished to ascertain if you were waking
Tell me, has anything extraordinary been
forced on your attention ?"
The question was too direct to be
evaded; and Albert, after a pause, re-
plied, “ I have seen some one digging in
the garden.”
“I suspected as much. Well, it mat-
ters not. Toyou the cause of this will
not long be a secret. We will not Speak
on the subject now; but, lest anything
392 THE WITCH-FINDER.
should prevent me from recurring to it
immediately, till I shall have done so,
let me conjure you to preserve the most
inviolable secrecy.”
Challoner then withdrew.
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
LoNDoN : -
Printed by A. & R. Spottiswoode,
New-street-square.



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