Fortunately for Jacob, his weakness prevented him from carrying his purpose into effect, and he retired, covered with confusion, to his bed, while his companions whom he was forced to leave behind, resigned their arms, through the inner grating, to their enemies, and were then committed to the dungeons of the fortress.
On the morning after this defeat, a party of men, who had been sent into the mountains to forage for goats, sheep, or provender of any kind that might fall in their way, chanced to pass near old Janet’s dwelling, and they resolved to revenge the cruel persecution of their captain, if they could light upon the witch, who had occasioned his long sufferings. Accordingly, they entered the cottage, where they perceived, before the dying embers of a turf fire, the waxen image with which she worked the charm, almost wasted away, but still bearing a strong resemblance to Jacob Strongith-arm. This they seized, and instantly committed to the water, placing, at the same time, some dried wood upon the turf, which, with the aid of some gunpowder, was ignited. A quantity of dried furze and heather was then piled upon it, and, in a short time, the flames communicated with the rafters of every part of the building.
As they turned from the cottage, one of the party perceived an old woman floating upon a plank on the lake, twisting and jumping, capering and splashing, in a manner that made his hair stand on end. It was old Janet herself, whose imps had deserted her, or he would never have been able to detect her at her pastime. There she floated, twirling about, sometimes on one leg, and then upon the other, till all of them being convinced it was the witch, they resolved to seize her, and convey her to the General.
Three of them, named John Brown, James Haddock, and Joseph Stilt, being the most courageous of the party, volunteered to capture her, though the devil himself stood at her elbow, while she, not knowing that her imp, Robin, whose power made her invisible to mortal eyes, had quitted her, kept dancing on, without dreaming of any harm that could befall her from the approach of mortals, although the plank upon which she stood nearly touched the border of the pool. Suddenly, Joseph Stilt, who was the foremost, roared out—“The witch! the witch!—we have her!” Janet then, for the first time, felt afraid; but she still had some power left, and Joseph Stilt, as he made a spring to come up with her, stuck fast in a quagmire as deep as his chin, close to the edge of the lake, where he remained storming, without the power to extricate himself. James Haddock, who leaped over his head, sank to the bottom, and narrowly escaped drowning. But John Brown, who always carried a verse of scripture in front of his hat, calling on the Virgin for support, alighted on the plank by the witch’s side, and, seizing her by the hair, ferried her to a safe landing place, when his comrades, James Haddock, and Joseph Stilt, having been assisted, by their fellows, out of jeopardy, assisted him to convey her to Harlech, where they were told that the dreadful exudations of Jacob had ceased, and, upon comparing their accounts, they found that his recovery commenced at the very moment when they flung his waxen effigy into the water, and set fire to the witch’s hut.
When Janet was brought before the General and Jacob Strongith-arm, she laughed to see his once stout frame dwindled as it was, and her laugh frightened them all; so they tied her to a stake, and then began to question her; but she disdained to make any reply. They then tried the torture of the thumb-screw, but Janet only spat in their faces, for the devil was strong within her; and James Haddock lost his eye, from the heat of her saliva. The soldiers marvelled at her obstinacy, and Jacob, growing full of ire, commanded them to fire a harquebuss at her, if she persisted in her stubbornness. But this threat only increased the fiendish laugh of old Janet into a yell of scorn. All threats proving useless, the harquebussier fired his piece. But how were they astonished to see the witch grinning defiance at them all, and holding the ball up between her right finger and thumb! Another was fired at her, which she caught in the left! Stilt, mad to see her triumph thus, ran at her with his sword, which shivered to pieces upon her breast; and all this time the witch laughed, and spat at, and reviled them. At length, Brown, who had first arrested her, remembering he had been told that a witch, if bled in any of the veins that cross the temples would soon give up the ghost, walked boldly up to her, when the devil, scared at his intentions, instantly quitted his votaress, and she, left helpless, could only storm, and rave, and curse, and beg for life. But Brown drew the keen blade across the full purple veins, and, with a scream of terror, she fell to the ground.
Many crimes did she confess to the holy man, who attended her last moments; besides the one just related, which render “the little hollow,” a spot of fearful interest to the mountaineer, who, as he passes the lake at nightfall, turns many an anxious glance behind, and fancies that he hears, at times, the sound of unearthly voices in the gale, that sweeps by him in this wild and lonely dell.
The castle was soon after surrendered to the Parliament forces, by its brave commander, who had the honor of knowing, that he was the last, who yielded up the trust confided to him, by his sovereign.
Our repast being concluded, we again mounted our horses, and commenced an ascent up a dank, cheerless hollow, called Bwlch Tyddiad. Nothing can exceed the wildness of the scenery, by which we were surrounded. Huge masses of rock, riven by the thunder bolt, or loosened by the frost, lay scattered in every direction, while, towering upon either side, the herbless mountains frowned, barren, black, grey, and terrible.
Our horses, accustomed, I presume, to such excursions, picked their way with the greatest care and safety, and my “Gallant Brown,” cleared every impediment, as if he had been foaled amongst the Alps, and loved them better than the verdant plain. Drawing nearer to the top of the cliff, the shepherds had made a stair-like path of flat stones, along which our cavalcade proceeded with caution; when suddenly we halted upon hearing the distant halloos of travellers ascending the opposite side of the mountain; and presently three persons, one of whom was leading a wearied animal by the bridle, became distinctly visible. A shout of recognition from our party roused all the echoes of the surrounding hills. The figures, as they became more distinct, seemed magically transported with myself into the heart of the Sierra Morena, where Cardenio, Don Quixote, and Sancho Panza, appeared to me in their proper persons; for never was description better realized, than in the figures that now presented themselves. The first was a handsome, well formed man, with light brown hair, which hung in plentiful thickness upon his shoulders; his untrimmed beard, joined by overhanging moustachios, and the two being united to the upper growth, by a pair of whiskers, the luxuriance of which shewed they were permitted to grow in uninterrupted freedom. His throat was bare, and his dress negligent. The second figure that attracted my attention, was a very tall and extremely thin young man, with a serious cast of features, that would have done honor to the knight of the woful countenance. In his hand he led a jaded hack, which in the ascent seemed to have yielded up three parts of its existence. Here then was the Rosinante of Cervantes in a breathing form; while, by his side, a short good humoured little man, with a huge portmanteau buckled on his back, walked like a faithful squire, and made an admirable substitute for the immortal Sancho; and, as he turned his eyes from precipice to glen, it required no great stretch of imagination, to think they were wandering in search of his beloved Dapple. We met upon a patch of green moss; and here our hamper was again unpacked, to cheer the hearts of these toil worn travellers.
