"Troth am ey, your warship," replied the man, "an ey hope yo may be able to deliver me. Yo mun knoa, that somehow ey wor unlucky enough last Yule to offend Mother Chattox, an ever sin then aw's gone wrang wi' me. Th' good-wife con never may butter come without stickin' a redhot poker into t' churn; and last week, when our brindlt sow farrowed, and had fifteen to t' litter, an' fine uns os ever yo seed, seign on um deed. Sad wark! sad wark, mesters. The week efore that t' keaw deed; an th' week efore her th' owd mare, so that aw my stock be gone. Waes me! waes me! Nowt prospers wi' me. My poor dame is besoide hersel, an' th' chilter seems possessed. Ey ha' tried every remedy, boh without success. Ey ha' followed th' owd witch whoam, plucked a hontle o' thatch fro' her roof, sprinklet it wi' sawt an weter, burnt it an' buried th' ess at th' change o' t' moon. No use, mesters. Then again, ey ha' getten a horseshoe, heated it redhot, quenched it i' brine, an' nailed it to t' threshold wi' three nails, heel uppard. No more use nor t'other. Then ey ha' taen sawt weter, and put it in a bottle wi' three rusty nails, needles, and pins, boh ey hanna found that th' witch ha' suffered thereby. An, lastly, ey ha' let myself blood, when the moon wur at full, an in opposition to th' owd hag's planet, an minglin' it wi' sawt, ha' burnt it i' a trivet, in hopes of afflictin' her; boh without avail, fo' ey seed her two days ago, an she flouted me an scoffed at me. What mun ey do, good mesters? What mun ey do?" "Have you offended any one besides Mother Chattox, my poor fellow?" said Nowell. "Mother Demdike, may be, your warship," replied the man. "You suspect Mother Demdike and Mother Chattox of bewitching you," said Potts, taking out his memorandum-book, and making a note in it. "Your name, good fellow?" "Oamfrey o' Will's o' Ben's o' Tummas' o' Sabden," replied the man. "Is that all?" asked Potts. "What more would you have?" said Richard. "The description is sufficiently particular." "Scarcely precise enough," returned Potts. "However, it may do. We will help you in the matter, good Humphrey Etcetera. You shall not be troubled with these pestilent witches much longer. The neighbourhood shall be cleared of them." "Ey'm reet glad to hear, mester," replied the man. "You promise much, Master Potts," observed Richard. "Not a jot more than I am able to perform," replied the attorney. "That remains to be seen," said Richard. "If these old women are as powerful as represented, they will not be so readily defeated." "There you are in error, Master Richard," replied Potts. "The devil, whose vassals they are, will deliver them into our hands." "Granting what you say to be correct, the devil must have little regard for his servants if he abandons them so easily," observed Richard, drily. "What else can you expect from him?" cried Potts. "It is his custom to ensnare his victims, and then leave them to their fate."