"But the wedding must not be." "Nay, it shall not, then," cried the old woman. Anne Beckley walked up and down the little room for a few minutes, and then with an ugly look disfiguring her handsome, weak face, she stopped short before the old woman. "Dost know how they served the old woman over at Morbledon?" she said, with a malicious smile. "Yes, yes," cried Mother Goodhugh, hastily; "I heard." "They tied her neck and heels, and threw her into the pond to see if she would swim." "Yes, yes; the idiots and fools." "They nearly drowned her. Eh? Does that touch thee, Mother Goodhugh?" said Mistress Anne, maliciously, as she saw the old woman fall a-trembling. "Yes, yes, yes. It was very cruel." "And then she was committed to prison on my father's warrant, and perchance she will be burned at the stake." "Nay, nay, it be too horrible," said the old woman, whose face was now blanched with terror. "It is only what they'd do to thee, Mother Goodhugh, if I denounced thee for witches' practices." "Then I'd denounce thee, too!" cried the old woman, turning upon her like the trampled worm. "And, if you did, who would believe thee, thou wrinkled, ugly, spiteful crone, who goest cursing through the village, and evil-eyeing all around? Denounce me? Ha, ha, ha!" cried the girl, throwing back her head as her eyes flashed, and she looked really handsome; "Do I look like a witch?" "No, no, no, dearie, you are lovely as woman can be," cried the old crone. "Then I'll get thee burned for deceiving me!" cried Anne. "Nay, child, nay," cried the old woman, piteously; "thou would'st not be so cruel." "I can, and I will," cried the girl, stamping her foot. "I have been a fool to listen to thee, and thou hast taken advantage of me to get my money, and laughed at my weakness because I was sick with love; but I'm not such a fool as to be unable to get revenge. Mother Goodhugh, I'd come to see thee burnt." "Nay, nay," cried the old woman, grovelling on the floor before her; "don't talk so, dearie, it be too horrible." "A great stake and a chain, and faggots piled round thee, and the fire blazing, and Mother Goodhugh roasting. Ha, ha, ha! it would be a gay revenge on an old witch." "Nay, child, nay, but I be not a witch," cried the old woman, who seemed palsied with dread. "Then why did'st profess to me that thou wast?" cried Anne, striking her again and again, the old woman only cowering down as she received the blows, and piteously begging her tormentor not to denounce her. "Thou deceived'st me scores of times, and I, fool that I was, listened, and was befooled more and more. Now, hark ye, Mother Goodhugh, I have thee tight. Thou canst not win their love for me, but thou can'st get me revenge. Look here: stop that wedding." "I will, child; I will, dearie." "_You shall_!" cried Anne. "Mind this: I warn you. If that wedding takes place, and Mace Cobbe becomes Dame Leslie--" "Yes, yes, yes!" cried the old woman.