"All spent on thee and thy philtres," returned Mother Goodhugh. "Then Abel Churr has been taken away through the tricks of that white witch Mace, who has forced Culverin Carr to slay him, that I might not battle against her. Ah, fair Mistress Anne, she be a potent witch."

"Then she shall be burned," cried Anne Beckley, savagely. "I have but to swear against her before my father, the justice, of her goings on, and she would be seized and pinioned and tortured."

"And serve her duly," cried the old woman, with malicious glee.

"Even as I could have thee seized, Mother Goodhugh," cried Anne, "if I so willed."

"Nay, but thou would'st not be so cruel to one who has served thee so well."

"Served me so well?" cried Anne, fiercely. "What have you done?"

"Tried to win thee lovers," said Mother Goodhugh, whining.

"Ay, and Gilbert Carr treats me with scorn, and Sir Mark marries that thing--that creature, Mace Cobbe."

"Nay," cried the old woman, "it be not so."

"But it is so," cried Anne, "and I am scorned by both. I heard Sir Mark talking the wedding over with Master Peasegood, and it will be at the Pool."

"Both scorned thee!" cried Mother Goodhugh, raising her hands; "and thou so beautiful to the eye, and I'll warrant me so sweet to the touch. She be a powerful witch indeed."

"Then I'll denounce her for one!" cried Anne, passionately; and the old woman's face lit up with glee, but became serious directly after, as she grew thoughtful.

"Nay, child, it would be in vain."

"But this marriage shall not be."

"Why not wed Captain Culverin?"

"Hideous old fool, I tell thee he scorns me!" cried the passionate woman. "He loves that wretched creature. I'll denounce her, that I will. I'd like to see her burn."

"She deserves it, too, child; but it would be in vain. Sir Mark and his men and Culverin Carr and his men would defend her. She has witched them to her side."

"But the wedding must not be."

"Nay, it shall not, then," cried the old woman.

Anne Beckley walked up and down the little room for a few minutes, and then with an ugly look disfiguring her handsome, weak face, she stopped short before the old woman.

"Dost know how they served the old woman over at Morbledon?" she said, with a malicious smile.

"Yes, yes," cried Mother Goodhugh, hastily; "I heard."

"They tied her neck and heels, and threw her into the pond to see if she would swim."

"Yes, yes; the idiots and fools."

"They nearly drowned her. Eh? Does that touch thee, Mother Goodhugh?"

said Mistress Anne, maliciously, as she saw the old woman fall a-trembling.

"Yes, yes, yes. It was very cruel."

"And then she was committed to prison on my father's warrant, and perchance she will be burned at the stake."

"Nay, nay, it be too horrible," said the old woman, whose face was now blanched with terror.

"It is only what they'd do to thee, Mother Goodhugh, if I denounced thee for witches' practices."

"Then I'd denounce thee, too!" cried the old woman, turning upon her like the trampled worm.

"And, if you did, who would believe thee, thou wrinkled, ugly, spiteful crone, who goest cursing through the village, and evil-eyeing all around? Denounce me? Ha, ha, ha!" cried the girl, throwing back her head as her eyes flashed, and she looked really handsome; "Do I look like a witch?"

"No, no, no, dearie, you are lovely as woman can be," cried the old crone.

"Then I'll get thee burned for deceiving me!" cried Anne.

"Nay, child, nay," cried the old woman, piteously; "thou would'st not be so cruel."

"I can, and I will," cried the girl, stamping her foot. "I have been a fool to listen to thee, and thou hast taken advantage of me to get my money, and laughed at my weakness because I was sick with love; but I'm not such a fool as to be unable to get revenge. Mother Goodhugh, I'd come to see thee burnt."

"Nay, nay," cried the old woman, grovelling on the floor before her; "don't talk so, dearie, it be too horrible."

"A great stake and a chain, and faggots piled round thee, and the fire blazing, and Mother Goodhugh roasting. Ha, ha, ha! it would be a gay revenge on an old witch."

"Nay, child, nay, but I be not a witch," cried the old woman, who seemed palsied with dread.

"Then why did'st profess to me that thou wast?" cried Anne, striking her again and again, the old woman only cowering down as she received the blows, and piteously begging her tormentor not to denounce her. "Thou deceived'st me scores of times, and I, fool that I was, listened, and was befooled more and more. Now, hark ye, Mother Goodhugh, I have thee tight. Thou canst not win their love for me, but thou can'st get me revenge. Look here: stop that wedding."

"I will, child; I will, dearie."

"_You shall_!" cried Anne. "Mind this: I warn you. If that wedding takes place, and Mace Cobbe becomes Dame Leslie--"

"Yes, yes, yes!" cried the old woman.

"I'll denounce thee as a witch, and laugh to scorn any accusations or railings against me; and I'll come and spit at thee as thou burnest at the stake."

"Oh!" half shrieked the old woman, tearing at her bosom as she heard the other's words, and felt their power. Then, recovering herself, she began to fawn upon her visitor.

"Have no fear, dearie. The wedding shall not be. I can stay it--I can stay it. I have but to lift up my hand, and it is done."

"I believe thee not!" cried Anne, "but I warn thee. If that wedding takes place, pray to all thy familiars to save thee, or flee from here, for if not I'll have thee dragged to the stake and burned. Thou knowest that I can," she said, as she turned to go.

"Yes, child--yes, dearie."

"Then remember!"

Anne went out of the cottage as she said the last words, and, as Mother Goodhugh thought of the atrocities that had been committed against weak old women who had professed some occult art, she shivered, and in imagination saw the flames rising round her withered limbs.