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?”