"Then I shall ask Mistress Mabel to forbid you going beyond the moat," said Maud.
This threat, which Bertram knew she would put into execution, made him give the required promise not to go and see Dame Coppins until Maud had discovered who had told her about Harry; which Maud feeling sure was a dark mystery, that no one would ever be able to penetrate, made up her mind not to try, now that she had extorted this promise from Bertram.
Some thoughts of the poor old woman's anxiety troubled her after she left Bertram, and she wondered what effect their neglect might have upon the mind of the villagers; but on this she resolved to keep eyes and ears alike open whenever she went amongst them, so that she might protect her from violence should any be attempted or contemplated.
But it seemed that the people had forgotten the witch in their rage against the "Parliament rebels," and Maud could not discover whether the old woman was being supplied with food or not; and very soon the fear that she would be starved to death began to take possession of her mind. To satisfy herself upon this point she resolved to walk down the lane late one afternoon, when she would not be expected. Before she had reached the cottage, however, she saw a litter borne between two men carried into the garden, and then from this was lifted what looked like a huge roll of cloth, and taken into the house, while Dame Coppins came and looked all round to make sure no one was in the lane. She did not see Maud, for she had concealed herself behind a tree, but the young lady had a good view of the old woman's face, and saw that there was little fear of her dying of starvation yet. As soon as she could she slipped out of her hiding-place and walked quickly up the lane. She was afraid of going near the cottage now, and she wondered what fresh wickedness Dame Coppins had been at. No wonder the people were afraid of her when such mysterious doings as that were going on.
Maud thought she had more than sufficient evidence to prove that Dame Coppins was a witch now, and began seriously to consider whether she ought not to inform against her; and she might have done this, only Master Drury was taken ill again. Maud began to think this must be the witch's work, when all Mistress Mabel's remedies failed, but she dared not say so, for fear the servants should tell the villagers, and they should attempt to drown her again; and so she suggested that a physician should be sent for to see her guardian. Mistress Mabel looked scornful at first, but finally relented, and a boy was despatched to the town, and returned with the grave-looking doctor, in plumed hat, scarlet cloak, and immense ruffles at his wrists. He looked grand enough to do anything if grandeur would do it, but he shook his head when he heard all Master Drury's ailments. Beyond this he would not commit himself, and so very little information was gained from his visit, and they could only wait in hope that his medicine would soon effect some improvement on the patient.
Meanwhile news had arrived that Prince Rupert had been compelled to surrender Bristol and several other places in the west, and that another battle disastrous to Charles had been fought at Rowton Moor. The King had been completely defeated, and compelled to retire to Oxford for the winter, and Captain Stanhope and his wife were coming to Hayslope. This was the news brought by one or two of the men who came back to the village to tell of the death or imprisonment of others who had gone forth with them that sweet spring day a few months before. So the winter came in gloomy enough, and men grew fiercer each day about the strife that was raging in the land. In Hayslope all the rage was against the London Parliament, and many vowed that if one of Cromwell's troopers showed himself there he should be killed, whoever he might be. This threat did not disturb Maud much, even if she heard it, for she did not think it was likely any of the Parliament men would come there, and she could only feel glad that the messenger had gone away before the arrival of these half-frenzied men. She still visited occasionally among the villagers, and contributed to their wants as far as she could; but a good deal of her time was occupied with Master Drury now, and Dame Coppins was almost forgotten, apparently.
She was therefore greatly surprised one day to receive a message from a village lad, saying she was wanted down the lane. She had no doubt who wanted her, but she did not intend going; she would not give Dame Coppins the opportunity of bewitching her any more; and so merely saying, "Prithee, I will think about it," she walked home as fast as she could.
That evening, about six o'clock, just as they were about to assemble for supper, one of the maids came to her and whispered that she was wanted; a man, who refused to say who he was or where he came from, demanded to see her.
Maud shivered: such mysterious messages were disagreeable, and she was just about to say she would not go, when Mistress Mabel appearing in the passage settled the matter; for had she heard her refuse, there would have been an instant inquiry, and the lady would not have rested until she found out all about the supposed witch and Maud's charities in the village.
So to prevent this she threw a cloak over her head, and followed the maid, without speaking, to where a muffled figure stood outside the door. She had only stepped off the threshold, when a gust of wind blew the door close, and at the same moment her wrist was seized, and she was dragged away from the house; and before she could even scream, or give any alarm, she was lifted on to a horse, and the man sprang up before her, and galloped away into the village.