"I am not as young as I was," she said, by way of apology, "and neither my eyesight nor my hand are to be relied upon as of old."
However, she aimed again and again at the figure, but with the same result.
"Why, you are getting old, Madge!" said De Chevron, surprised at her repeated failures. "Come, let me put the pins in."
Seizing the image with one hand and a long pin with the other—(here again my breath failed me through fear, and I omitted to pray)—he first pierced the arm of the figure that supported the gun in one place, and then in another higher up. He then took a third pin and seemed about to pierce the image in the region of the heart, when I, now really alarmed for the victim, again offered up a short and fervent prayer.
De Chevron instantly dropped the pin, as if it had been red hot; but immediately taking up another, he made a furious thrust at the body of the image, but his hand went off widely from the mark, leaving the image unscathed.
"Why, how is this?" exclaimed De Chevron, in astonishment.
"Ha! ha! Master de Chevron," laughed the witch, "you are no better than old Madge after all."
"Well, this is strange!" muttered De Chevron to himself, after having tried once or twice more and failed.
"Are you quite sure you have repeated the charm aright, Madge?"
"Quite sure," replied the crone; "but, beshrew me, if I don't think there is some hostile element at hand that counteracts the charm. Just look at the way Grimalkin arches his back and ruffles his fur."