Alizon fell on her knees, and prayed fervently.
"You waste your breath," cried the familiar, in a mocking tone. "Never till the brand shall disappear from her brow, and the writing, traced in her blood, shall vanish from this parchment, can she be saved. She is mine."
"Pray, Alizon, pray!" shrieked Mistress Nutter.
"I will tear her in pieces if she does not cease," cried the familiar, assuming a terrible shape, and menacing her with claws like those of a wild beast.
"Pray thou, mother!" cried Alizon.
"I cannot," replied the lady.
"I will kill her if she but makes the attempt," howled the demon.
"But try, mother, try!" cried Alizon.
The poor lady dropped on her knees, and raised her hands in humble supplication—"Heaven forgive me!" she exclaimed.
The demon seized the hourglass.