"Of Mistress Nutter!" ejaculated Richard, starting. "What makes you think so?" "The extraordinary and otherwise unaccountable interest she takes in her," replied Dorothy. "And, if you recollect, Mistress Nutter had an infant daughter who was lost in a strange manner." "I thought the child died," replied Richard; "but it may be as you say. I hope it is so." "Time will show," said Dorothy; "but I have made up my mind about the matter." At this moment Nicholas Assheton came up to them, looking grave and uneasy. "What has happened?" asked Richard, anxiously. "I have just received some very unpleasant intelligence," replied Nicholas. "I told you of a menace uttered by that confounded Potts, on quitting me after his ducking. He has now spoken out plainly, and declares he overheard part of a conversation between Mistress Nutter and Elizabeth Device, which took place in the ruins of the convent church this morning, and he is satisfied that--" "Well!" cried Richard, breathlessly. "That Mistress Nutter is a witch, and in league with witches," continued Nicholas. "Ha!" exclaimed Richard, turning deathly pale. "I suspect the rascal has invented the charge," said Nicholas; "but he is quite unscrupulous enough to make it; and, if made, it will be fatal to our relative's reputation, if not to her life." "It is false, I am sure of it," cried Richard, torn by conflicting emotions. "Would I could think so!" cried Dorothy, suddenly recollecting Mistress Nutter's strange demeanour in the little chapel, and the unaccountable influence she seemed to exercise over the old crone. "But something has occurred to-day that leads me to a contrary conviction." "What is it? Speak!" cried Richard. "Not now--not now," replied Dorothy. "Whatever suspicions you may entertain, keep silence, or you will destroy Mistress Nutter," said Nicholas. "Fear me not," rejoined Dorothy. "Oh, Alizon!" she murmured, "that this unhappy question should arise at such a moment." "Do you indeed believe the charge, Dorothy?" asked Richard, in a low voice. "I do," she answered in the same tone. "If Alizon be her daughter, she can never be your wife." "How?" cried Richard. "Never--never!" repeated Dorothy, emphatically. "The daughter of a witch, be that witch named Elizabeth Device or Alice Nutter, is no mate for you." "You prejudge Mistress Nutter, Dorothy," he cried. "Alas! Richard. I have too good reason for what I say," she answered, sadly. Richard uttered an exclamation of despair. And on the instant the lively sounds of tabor and pipe, mixed with the jingling of bells, arose from the court-yard, and presently afterwards an attendant entered to announce that the May-day revellers were without, and directions were given by Sir Ralph that they should be shown into the great banqueting-hall below the gallery, which had been prepared for their reception. CHAPTER VIII.--THE REVELATION.