There, child, I can tell thee no more to-day."

"But tell me, mother, what can I do? Pray give me your help."

"Help, child! How can I help thee?"

"It be all so true," whispered Janet. "He loves me, and she has come between us, and I hate her. What shall I do?"

"Does she love him?"

"I think so. I don't know."

"What could I do to help her?" muttered Mother Goodhugh, as if communing with herself, but loud enough for the silly girl to hear. "I could give her a philtre that would turn her own love for this gallant to hate, and so comfort her poor suffering heart. See, child," she said aloud, "I will give thee a potion that thou shalt take a little at a time in every meal; and, at the end of a week, thou shalt feel so strong a hatred of this lover of thine that thou shalt feel perfect rest. Will that do?"

"No, no!" cried Janet; "I don't want to--Yes, yes!" she cried, as an idea seemed to flash across her brain, and Mother Goodhugh's eyes sparkled as she saw how well her plans would be carried out by the foolish girl who, she felt sure, would administer the drops to Mace in place of to herself; and, going into the inner room, she remained away for some few minutes before returning to Janet, and, pressing a little bottle in her hand--

"Take that, child, but let no soul know whence thou hadst it."

"Trust me for that, mother," cried Janet, joyously. "What shall I pay you?"

"Pay me, child!" cried the old woman. "Nothing, dearie; I am no old money-getting witch, but a simple, decent woman, who does these things for love. There, dearie, give me a bonny kiss of those red lips, and go thy way; Mother Goodhugh will help thee again if thou should'st come."

"But mother," said Janet, glancing back at the door.

"Yes, child, yes?"

"Will this act quickly and soon?"

"Yes, child; why?"

Janet reddened and hesitated, while the old woman's eyes seemed to search her through and through.

"Speak to me at once, child. But just as thou wilt, I can read thy thoughts, I know," and she laughed maliciously.

"Oh, mother!" cried Janet, bursting into tears.

"I think thou hast been very wicked, Janet."

"Nay, mother, I could not help it; I tried so hard to be good."

"My duty should be to tell Mas' Jeremiah Cobbe."

"Nay, nay, mother, he'd drive me hence, and Mas' Peasegood would make me stand out before all the people in the church. Nay, good mother, give me something, pray. Sir Mark's stout followers be rude wicked men. And Mas' Wat Kilby, too," she sobbed.

"I've given thee that which will help thee--I can do no more," said Mother Goodhugh, sternly.

"Now thou'rt angered with me, mother," pouted the girl. "I wish I had not come and told thee, that I do."

"Tchah! she says, _fold me_," laughed the old woman, "when I knew as well as all the world will soon know, Janet, an' thou do not use my philtre."

Janet turned pale.

"Pray forgive me, mother, I'll use the drops."

"Ay, go and use them, and through them win a husband, child. Then all will be well."

"Yes, yes, mother!" cried Janet, eagerly.

"There, I forgive thee; but get thee a husband quick. Kiss me, child.

Now go."

The girl eagerly pressed her ripe red mouth to the pale and withered lips of the old woman, and then, after a glance outside to see that she was not watched, she hurried back towards the Pool, while Mother Goodhugh stood looking after her, and softly rubbed her hands.

"If aught should happen," she muttered, "the girl dare not speak, for I gave her the stuff to take herself. It would be her doing, and the wedding would not take place. But what would Mistress Anne Beckley say?"

She stood thinking for a few minutes before she spoke again.

"Nothing. She dare say nothing. But I be a witch, be I, madam? Have a care, then, for thyself. If one of two people is to die, why should it be I? But we shall see, we shall see: there be time enough yet."

End of Volume II.

Volume 3, Chapter I.

HOW THE WITCH SAID THERE SHOULD BE NO WEDDING.

"That Mother Goodhugh must have a care of herself," said Sir Thomas a day or two later; and Anne let fall her work upon her knee to listen to her father's words.

"And pray why?" said Dame Beckley, who was shaking up some strange infusion of herbs in a bottle.

"I hear strange things of her," said Sir Thomas; "things that, as a justice, I shall be bound to stay."

"And why?" said the dame, as she took out the stopper and had a long sniff at the contents of the bottle.

"Because they savour of witchcraft and the use of spells. His Majesty has opened a stem commission against such dealings, and as one whom he has delighted to honour I feel bound to show my zeal."

"Fiddle-de-dee!" cried Dame Beckley; "show thy zeal by growing wiser, Thomas. Smell that!"

As the dame held the bottle beneath her lord's nose, Anne glided out of the room, and made her way towards Mother Goodhugh's cot, where she found the old woman ready to meet her with a suspicious look, and, with a feeling of gratified malice, told her of the words her father had let drop.

"But you could stay him, dearie," said the old woman, with a look of terror which she could not conceal.

"Yes. But tell me--what have you done?"

"Wait, dearie, wait," whispered the old woman. "The wedding will never be."

"But it takes place in four days!" cried Anne. "Sir Mark actually dared to come over and tell my father."

"And he told thee, dearie?"

"Nay, he told my mother, and she told me."