THE MYSTERIES OF MALKIN TOWER.

It was a subterranean chamber; gloomy, and of vast extent; the roof low, and supported by nine ponderous stone columns, to which rings and rusty chains were attached, still retaining the mouldering bones of those they had held captive in life.  Amongst others was a gigantic skeleton, quite entire, with an iron girdle round the middle.  Fragments of mortality were elsewhere scattered about, showing the numbers who had perished in the place.  On either side were cells closed by massive doors, secured by bolts and locks.  At one end were three immense coffers made of oak, hooped with iron, and fastened by large padlocks.  Near them stood a large armoury, likewise of oak, and sculptured with the ensigns of Whalley Abbey, proving it had once belonged to that establishment.  Probably it had been carried off by some robber band.  At the opposite end of the vault were two niches, each occupied by a rough-hewn statue the one representing a warlike figure, with a visage of extraordinary ferocity, and the other an anchoress, in her hood and wimple, with a rosary in her hand.  On the ground beneath lay a plain flag, covering the mortal remains of the wicked pair, and proclaiming them to be Isole de Heton and Blackburn, the freebooter.  The pillars were ranged in three lines, so as to form, with the arches above them, a series of short passages, in the midst of which stood an altar, and near it a large caldron.  In front, elevated on a block of granite, was a marvellous piece of sculpture, wrought in jet, and representing a demon seated on a throne.  The visage was human, but the beard that of a goat, while the feet and lower limbs were like those of the same animal.  Two curled horns grew behind the ears, and a third, shaped like a conch, sprang from the centre of the forehead, from which burst a blue flame, throwing a ghastly light on the objects surrounding it.

The only discernible approach to the vault was a steep narrow stone staircase, closed at the top by a heavy trapdoor.  Other outlet apparently there was none.  Some little air was admitted to this foul abode through flues contrived in the walls, the entrances to which were grated, but the light of day never came there.  The flame, however, issuing from the brow of the demon image, like the lamps in the sepulchres of the disciples of the Rosy Cross, was ever-burning.  Behind the sable statue was a deep well, with water as black as ink, wherein swarmed snakes, and toads, and other noxious reptiles; and as the lurid light fell upon its surface it glittered like a dusky mirror, unless when broken by the horrible things that lurked beneath, or crawled about upon its slimy brim.  But snakes and toads were not the only tenants of the vault.  At the head of the steps squatted a monstrous and misshapen animal, bearing some resemblance to a cat, but as big as a tiger.  Its skin was black and shaggy; its eyes glowed like those of the hyaena; and its cry was like that of the same treacherous beast.  Among the gloomy colonnades other swart and bestial shapes could be indistinctly seen moving to and fro.

In this abode of horror were two human beings one, a young maiden of exquisite beauty; and the other, almost a child, and strangely deformed.  The elder, overpowered by terror, was clinging to a pillar for support, while the younger, who might naturally be expected to exhibit the greatest alarm, appeared wholly unconcerned, and derided her companion’s fears.

“Oh, Jennet!” exclaimed the elder of the two, “is there no means of escape?”

“None whatever,” replied the other.  “Yo mun stay here till Granny Demdike cums fo ye.”

“Oh! that the earth would open and snatch me from these horrors,” cried Alizon.  “My reason is forsaking me.  Would I could kneel and pray for deliverance!  But something prevents me.”

“Reet!” replied Jennet.  “It’s os mitch os yer loife’s worth to kneel an pray here, onless yo choose to ge an throw yersel at th’ feet o’ yon black image.”

“Kneel to that idol never!” exclaimed Alizon.  And while striving to call upon heaven for aid, a sharp convulsion seized her, and deprived her of the power of utterance.

“Ey towd yo how it wad be,” remarked Jennet, who watched her narrowly.  “Yo ‘re neaw i’ a church here, an if yo want to warship, it mun be at yon altar.  Dunna yo hear how angry the cats are how they growl an spit?  An see how their een gliss’n!  They’ll tare yo i’ pieces, loike so many tigers, if yo offend em.”

“Tell me why I am brought here, Jennet?” inquired Alizon, after a brief pause.

“Granny Demdike will tell yo that,” replied the little girl; “boh to my belief,” she added, with a mocking laugh, “hoo means to may a witch o’ ye, loike aw the rest on us.”

“She cannot do that without my consent,” cried Alizon, “and I would die a thousand deaths rather than yield it.”

“That remains to be seen,” replied Jennet, tauntingly.  “Yo ’re obstinate enuff, nah doubt.  Boh Granny Demdike is used to deal wi’ sich folk.”

“Oh! why was I born?” cried Alizon, bitterly.

“Yo may weel ask that,” responded Jennet, with a loud unfeeling laugh; “fo ey see neaw great use yo’re on, wi’ yer protty feace an bright een, onless it be to may one hate ye.”

“Is it possible you can say this to me, Jennet?” cried Alizon.  “What have I done to incur your hatred?  I have ever loved you, and striven to please and serve you.  I have always taken your part against others, even when you were in the wrong.  Oh!  Jennet, you cannot hate me.”

“Boh ey do,” replied the little girl, spitefully.  “Ey hate yo now warser than onny wan else.  Ey hate yo because yo are neaw lunger my sister becose yo ’re a grand ledy’s dowter, an a grand ledy yersel.  Ey hate yo becose yung Ruchot Assheton loves yo an becose yo ha better luck i’ aw things than ey have, or con expect to have.  That’s why I hate yo, Alizon.  When yo are a witch ey shan love yo, for then we shan be equals once more.”

“That will never be, Jennet,” said Alizon, sadly, but firmly.  “Your grandmother may immure me in this dungeon, and scare away my senses; but she will never rob me of my hopes of salvation.”

As the words were uttered, a clang like that produced by a stricken gong shook the vault; the beasts roared fiercely; the black waters of the fountain bubbled up, and were lashed into foam by the angry reptiles; and a larger jet of flame than before burst from the brow of the demon statue.

“Ey ha’ warned ye, Alizon,” said Jennet, alarmed by these demonstrations; “boh since ye pay no heed to owt ey say, ey’st leave yo to yer fate.”

“Oh! stay with me, stay with me, Jennet!” shrieked Alizon, “By our past sisterly affection I implore you to remain!  You are some protection to me from these dreadful beings.”

“Ey dunna want to protect yo onless yo do os yo’re bidd’n,” replied Jennet!  “Whoy should yo be better than me?”

“Ah! why, indeed?” cried Alizon.  “Would I had the power to turn your heart to open your eyes to evil to save you, Jennet.”

These words were followed by another clang, louder and more brattling than the first.  The solid walls of the dungeon were shaken, and the heavy columns rocked; while, to Alizon’s affrighted gaze, it seemed as if the sable statue arose upon its ebon throne, and stretched out its arm menacingly towards her.  The poor girl was saved from further terror by insensibility.

How long she remained in this condition she could not tell, nor did it appear that any efforts were made to restore her; but when she recovered, she found herself stretched upon a rude pallet within an arched recess, the entrance to which was screened by a piece of tapestry.  On lifting it aside she perceived she was no longer in the vault, but in an upper chamber, as she judged, and not incorrectly, of the tower.  The room was lofty and circular, and the walls of enormous thickness, as shown by the deep embrasures of the windows; in one of which, the outlet having been built up, the pallet was placed.  A massive oak table, two or three chairs of antique shape, and a wooden stool, constituted the furniture of the room.  The stool was set near the fireplace, and beside it stood a strangely-fashioned spinning-wheel, which had apparently been recently used; but neither the old hag nor her grand-daughter were visible.  Alizon could not tell whether it was night or day; but a lamp was burning upon the table, its feeble light only imperfectly illumining the chamber, and scarcely revealing several strange objects dangling from the huge beams that supported the roof.  Faded arras were hung against the walls, representing in one compartment the last banquet of Isole de Heton and her lover, Blackburn; in another, the Saxon Ughtred hanging from the summit of Malkin Tower; and in a third, the execution of Abbot Paslew.  The subjects were as large as life, admirably depicted, and evidently worked at wondrous looms.  As they swayed to and fro in the gusts, that found entrance into the chamber through some unprotected loopholes, the figures had a grim and ghostly air.

Weak, trembling, bewildered, Alizon stepped forth, and staggering towards the table sank upon a chair beside it.  A fearful storm was raging without thunder, lightning, deluging rain.  Stunned and blinded, she covered her eyes, and remained thus till the fury of the tempest had in some degree abated.  She was roused at length by a creaking sound not far from her, and found it proceeded from a trapdoor rising slowly on its hinges.

A thrum cap first appeared above the level of the floor; then a broad, bloated face, the mouth and chin fringed with a white beard like the whiskers of a cat; then a thick, bull throat; then a pair of brawny shoulders; then a square, thick-set frame; and Mother Demdike stood before her.  A malignant smile played upon her hideous countenance, and gleamed from her eyes those eyes so strangely placed by nature, as if to intimate her doom, and that of her fated race, to whom the horrible blemish was transmitted.  As the old witch leaped heavily upon the ground, the trapdoor closed behind her.

“Soh, you are better, Alizon, and have quitted your couch, I find,” she cried, striking her staff upon the floor.  “But you look faint and feeble still.  I will give you something to revive you.  I have a wondrous cordial in yon closet a rare restorative ha! ha!  It will make you well the moment it has passed your lips.  I will fetch it at once.”

“I will have none of it,” replied Alizon; “I would rather die.”

“Rather die!” echoed Mother Demdike, sarcastically, “because, forsooth, you are crossed in love.  But you shall have the man of your heart yet, if you will only follow my counsel, and do as I bid you.  Richard Assheton shall be yours, and with your mother’s consent, provided ”

“I understand the condition you annex to the promise,” interrupted Alizon, “and the terms upon which you would fulfil it:  but you seek in vain to tempt me, old woman.  I now comprehend why I am brought hither.”

“Ay, indeed!” exclaimed the old witch.  “And why is it, then, since you are so quick-witted?”

“You desire to make an offering to the evil being you serve,” cried Alizon, with sudden energy.  “You have entered into some dark compact, which compels you to deliver up a victim in each year to the Fiend, or your own soul becomes forfeit.  Thus you have hitherto lengthened out your wretched life, and you hope to extend the term yet farther through me.  I have heard this tale before, but I would not believe it.  Now I do.  This is why you have stolen me from my mother have braved her anger and brought me to this impious tower.”

The old hag laughed hoarsely.

“The tale thou hast heard respecting me is true,” she said.  “I have a compact which requires me to make a proselyte to the power I serve within each year, and if I fail in doing so, I must pay the penalty thou hast mentioned.  A like compact exists between Mistress Nutter and the Fiend.”

She paused for a moment, to watch the effect of her words on Alizon, and then resumed.

“Thy mother would have sacrificed thee if thou hadst been left with her; but I have carried thee off, because I conceive I am best entitled to thee.  Thou wert brought up as my grand-daughter, and therefore I claim thee as my own.”

“And you think to deal with me as if I were a puppet in your hands?” cried Alizon.

“Ay, marry, do I,” rejoined Mother Demdike, with a scream of laughter, “Thou art nothing more than a puppet a puppet ho! ho.”

“And you deem you can dispose of my soul without my consent?” said Alizon.

“Thy full consent will be obtained,” rejoined the old hag.

“Think it not! think it not!” exclaimed Alizon.  “Oh!  I shall yet be delivered from this infernal bondage.”

At this moment the notes of a bugle were heard.

“Saved! saved!” cried the poor girl, starting.  “It is Richard come to my rescue!”

“How know’st thou that?” cried Mother Demdike, with a spiteful look.

“By an instinct that never deceives,” replied Alizon, as the blast was again heard.

“This must be stopped,” said the hag, waving her staff over the maiden, and transfixing her where she sat; after which she took up the lamp, and strode towards the window.

The few words that passed between her and Richard have been already recounted.  Having closed the casement and drawn the curtain before it, Mother Demdike traced a circle on the floor, muttered a spell, and then, waving her staff over Alizon, restored her power of speech and motion.

“’Twas he!” exclaimed the young girl, as soon as she could find utterance.  “I heard his voice.”

“Why, ay, ’twas he, sure enough,” rejoined the beldame.  “He has come on a fool’s errand, but he shall never return from it.  Does Mistress Nutter think I will give up my prize the moment I have obtained it, for the mere asking?  Does she imagine she can frighten me as she frightens others?  Does she know whom she has to deal with?  If not, I will tell her.  I am the oldest, the boldest, and the strongest of the witches.  No mystery of the black art but is known to me.  I can do what mischief I will, and my desolating hand has been felt throughout this district.  You may trace it like a pestilence.  No one has offended me but I have terribly repaid him.  I rule over the land like a queen.  I exact tributes, and, if they are not rendered, I smite with a sharper edge than the sword.  My worship is paid to the Prince of Darkness.  This tower is his temple, and yon subterranean chamber the place where the mystical rites, which thou wouldst call impious and damnable, are performed.  Countless sabbaths have I attended within it; or upon Rumbles Moor, or on the summit of Pendle Hill, or within the ruins of Whalley Abbey.  Many prosélytes have I made; many unbaptised babes offered up in sacrifice.  I am high-priestess to the Demon, and thy mother would usurp mine office.”

“Oh! spare me this horrible recital!” exclaimed Alizon, vainly trying to shut out the hag’s piercing voice.

“I will spare thee nothing,” pursued Mother Demdike.  “Thy mother, I say, would be high-priestess in my stead.  There are degrees among witches, as among other sects, and mine is the first.  Mistress Nutter would deprive me of mine office; but not till her hair is as white as mine, her knowledge equal to mine, and her hatred of mankind as intense as mine not till then shall she have it.”

“No more of this, in pity!” cried Alizon.

“Often have I aided thy mother in her dark schemes,” pursued the implacable hag; “nay, no later than last night I obliterated the old boundaries of her land, and erected new marks to serve her.  It was a strong exercise of power; but the command came to me, and I obeyed it.  No other witch could have achieved so much, not even the accursed Chattox, and she is next to myself.  And how does thy mother purpose to requite me?  By thrusting me aside, and stepping into my throne.”

“You must be in error,” cried Alizon, scarcely knowing what to say.

“My information never fails me,” replied the hag, with a disdainful laugh.  “Her plans are made known to me as soon as formed.  I have those about her who keep strict watch upon her actions, and report them faithfully.  I know why she brought thee so suddenly to Rough Lee, though thou know’st it not.”

“She brought me there for safety,” remarked the young girl, hoping to allay the beldame’s fury, “and because she herself desired to know how the survey of the boundaries would end.”

“She brought thee there to sacrifice thee to the Fiend!” cried the hag, infernal rage and malice blazing in her eyes.  “She failed in propitiating him at the meeting in the ruined church of Whalley last night, when thou thyself wert present, and deliveredst Dorothy Assheton from the snare in which she was taken.  And since then all has gone wrong with her.  Having demanded from her familiar the cause why all things ran counter, she was told she had failed in the fulfilment of her promise that a proselyte was required and that thou alone wouldst be accepted.”

“I!” exclaimed Alizon, horror-stricken.

“Ay, thou!” cried the hag.  “No choice was allowed her, and the offering must be made to-night.  After a long and painful struggle, thy mother consented.”

“Oh! no impossible! you deceive me,” cried the wretched girl.

“I tell thee she consented,” rejoined Mother Demdike, coldly; “and on this she made instant arrangements to return home, and in spite as thou know’st of Sir Ralph and Lady Assheton’s efforts to detain her, set forth with thee.”

“All this I know,” observed Alizon, sadly “and intelligence of our departure from the Abbey was conveyed to you, I conclude, by Jennet, to whom I bade adieu.”

“Thou art right it was,” returned the hag; “but I have yet more to tell thee, for I will lay the secrets of thy mother’s dark breast fully before thee.  Her time is wellnigh run.  Thou wert made the price of its extension.  If she fails in offering thee up to-night, and thou art here in my keeping, the Fiend, her master, will abandon her, and she will be delivered up to the justice of man.”

Alizon covered her face with horror.

After awhile she looked up, and exclaimed, with unutterable anguish

“And I cannot help her!”

The unpitying hag laughed derisively.

“She cannot be utterly lost,” continued the young girl.  “Were I near her, I would show her that heaven is merciful to the greatest sinner who repents; and teach her how to regain the lost path to salvation.”

“Peace!” thundered the witch, shaking her huge hand at her, and stamping her heavy foot upon the ground.  “Such words must not be uttered here.  They are an offence to me.  Thy mother has renounced all hopes of heaven.  She has been baptised in the baptism of hell, and branded on the brow by the red finger of its ruler, and cannot be wrested from him.  It is too late.”

“No, no it never can be too late!” cried Alizon.  “It is not even too late for you.”

“Thou know’st not what thou talk’st about, foolish wench,” rejoined the hag.  “Our master would tear us instantly in pieces if but a thought of penitence, as thou callest it, crossed our minds.  We are both doomed to an eternity of torture.  But thy mother will go first ay, first.  If she had yielded thee up to-night, another term would have been allowed her; but as I hold thee instead, the benefit of the sacrifice will be mine.  But, hist! what was that?  The youth again!  Alice Nutter must have given him some potent counter-charm.”

“He comes to deliver me,” cried Alizon.  “Richard!”

And she arose, and would have flown to the window, but Mother Demdike waved her staff over her, and rooted her to the ground.

“Stay there till I require thee,” chuckled the hag, moving, with ponderous footsteps, to the door.

After parleying with Richard, as already related, Mother Demdike suddenly returned to Alizon, and, restoring her to sensibility, placed her hideous face close to her, breathing upon her, and uttering these words, “Be thine eyes blinded and thy brain confused, so that thou mayst not know him when thou seest him, but think him another.”

The spell took instant effect.  Alizon staggered towards the table, Richard was summoned, and on his appearance the scene took place which has already been detailed, and which ended in his losing the talisman, and being ejected from the tower.

Alizon had been rendered invisible by the old witch, and was afterwards dragged into the arched recess by her, where, snatching the piece of gold from the young girl’s neck, she exclaimed triumphantly

“Now I defy thee, Alice Nutter.  Thou canst never recover thy child.  The offering shall be made to-night, and another year be added to my long term.”

Alizon groaned deeply, but, at a gesture from the hag, she became motionless and speechless.

A dusky indistinctly-seen figure hovered near the entrance of the embrasure.  Mother Demdike beckoned it to her.

“Convey this girl to the vault, and watch over her,” she said.  “I will descend anon.”

Upon this the shadowy arms enveloped Alizon, the trapdoor flew open, and the figure disappeared with its inanimate burthen.