“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.