"Oh! yes, I could save her, but she will not let me," replied the familiar, with a grin.
"No—no—it is impossible," cried the wretched woman. "And I cannot help her."
"Perhaps you might," observed the tempter. "My master, whom you accuse of harshness, is ever willing to oblige you. You have a few minutes left—do you wish him to aid her? Command me, and I will obey you."
"This is some snare," thought Mistress Nutter; "I will resist it."
"You cannot be worse off than you are," remarked the familiar.
"I know not that," replied the lady. "What would'st thou do?"
"Whatever you command me, madam. I can, do nothing of my own accord. Shall I bring your daughter here? Say so, and it shall be done."
"No—thou would'st ensnare me," she replied. "I well know thou hast no power over her. Thou would'st place some phantasm before me. I would see her, but not through thy agency."
"She is here," cried Alizon, opening the door of a closet, and rushing towards her mother, who instantly locked her in her arms.
"Pray for me, my child," cried Mistress Nutter, mastering her emotion, "or I shall be snatched from you for ever. My moments are numbered. Pray—pray!"