"Thou art not wont to miss thy aim, Cuthbert," cried the abbot, with a look of displeasure. "Take good heed thou producest this scurril knave before me, when these troublous times are over. But what is this?--he stops--ha! he is practising his devilries on the mountain's side." It would seem that the abbot had good warrant for what he said, as Demdike, having paused at a broad green patch on the hill-side, was now busied in tracing a circle round it with his staff. He then spoke aloud some words, which the superstitious beholders construed into an incantation, and after tracing the circle once again, and casting some tufts of dry heather, which he plucked from an adjoining hillock, on three particular spots, he ran quickly downwards, followed by his hound, and leaping a stone wall, surrounding a little orchard at the foot of the hill, disappeared from view. "Go and see what he hath done," cried the abbot to the forester, "for I like it not." Ashbead instantly obeyed, and on reaching the green spot in question, shouted out that he could discern nothing; but presently added, as he moved about, that the turf heaved like a sway-bed beneath his feet, and he thought--to use his own phraseology--would "brast." The abbot then commanded him to go down to the orchard below, and if he could find Demdike to bring him to him instantly. The forester did as he was bidden, ran down the hill, and, leaping the orchard wall as the other had done, was lost to sight. Ere long, it became quite dark, and as Ashbead did not reappear, the abbot gave vent to his impatience and uneasiness, and was proposing to send one of the herdsmen in search of him, when his attention was suddenly diverted by a loud shout from one of the sentinels, and a fire was seen on a distant hill on the right. "The signal! the signal!" cried Paslew, joyfully. "Kindle a torch!--quick, quick!" And as he spoke, he seized a brand and plunged it into the peat fire, while his example was followed by the two monks. "It is the beacon on Blackstone Edge," cried the abbot; "and look! a second blazes over the Grange of Cliviger--another on Ightenhill-- another on Boulsworth Hill--and the last on the neighbouring heights of Padiham. Our own comes next. May it light the enemies of our holy Church to perdition!"