r skin was dark, and her
hair raven black, contrasting strongly with the red band wound around
it. Her kirtle was of murrey-coloured serge; simply, but becomingly
fashioned. A glance sufficed to show her how matters stood with poor
Ashbead, and, uttering a sharp angry cry, she rushed towards him.

"What have you done?" she cried, fixing a keen reproachful look on
Demdike, who walked beside the wounded man.

"Nothing," replied Demdike with a bitter laugh; "the fool has been hurt
with a pike. Stand out of the way, Bess, and let the men pass. They are
about to carry him to the cell under the chapter-house."

"You shall not take him there," cried Bess Demdike, fiercely. "He may
recover if his wound be dressed. Let him go to the infirmary--ha, I
forgot--there is no one there now."

"Father Bancroft is at the gate," observed one of the arquebussiers; "he
used to act as chirurgeon in the abbey."

"No monk must enter the gate except the prisoners when they arrive,"
observed Assheton; "such are the positive orders of the Earl of Derby."

"It is not needed," observed Demdike, "no human aid can save the man."

"But can other aid save him?" said Bess, breathing the words in her
husband's ears.

"Go to!" cried Demdike, pushing her roughly aside; "wouldst have me save
thy lover?"

"Take heed," said Bess, in a deep whisper; "if thou save him not, by the
devil thou servest! thou shalt lose me and thy child."

Demdike did not think proper to contest the point, but, approaching
Assheton, requested that the wounded man might be conveyed to an arched
recess, which he pointed out. Assent being given, Ashbead was taken
there, and placed upon the ground, after which the arquebussiers and
their leader marched off; while Bess, kneeling down, supported the head
of the wounded man upon her knee, and Demdike, taking a small phial from
his doublet, poured some of its contents clown his throat. The wizard
then took a fold of linen, with which he was likewise provided, and,
dipping it in the elixir, applied it to the wound.

In a few moments Ashbead opened his eyes, and looking round wildly,
fixed his gaze upon Bess, who placed her finger upon her lips to enjoin
silence, but he could not, or would not, understand the sign.

"Aw's o'er wi' meh, Bess," he groaned; "but ey'd reyther dee thus, wi'
thee besoide meh, than i' ony other wey."

"Hush!" exclaimed Bess, "Nicholas is here."

"Oh! ey see," replied the wounded man, looking round; "