"You shall have it," replied the other. "Yo talk differently fro' what yo did just now, mon," said the miller, regarding him narrowly and distrustfully. "An yo look differently too. There's a queer glimmer abowt your een that ey didna notice efore, and that ey mislike." The man laughed bitterly. "Leave off grinnin' or begone," cried Baldwyn, furiously. And he raised his hand to strike the man, but he instantly dropped it, appalled by a look which the other threw at him. "Who the dule are yo?" "The dule must answer you, since you appeal to him," replied the other, with the same mocking smile; "but you are mistaken in supposing that you have spoken to me before. He with whom you conversed in the other room, resembles me in more respects than one, but he does not possess power equal to mine. The law will not aid you against Mother Demdike. She will escape all the snares laid for her. But she will not escape _me_." "Who are ye?" cried the miller, his hair erecting on his head, and cold damps breaking out upon his brow. "Yo are nah mortal, an nah good, to tawk i' this fashion." "Heed not who and what I am," replied the other; "I am known here as a reeve of the forest--that is enough. Would you have vengeance on the murtheress of your child?" "Yeigh," rejoined Baldwyn. "And you are willing to pay for it at the price of your soul?" demanded the other, advancing towards him. Baldwyn reeled. He saw at once the fearful peril in which he was placed, and averted his gaze from the scorching glance of the reeve. At this moment the door was tried without, and the voice of Bess was heard, saying, "Who ha' yo got wi' yo, Ruchot; and whoy ha' yo fastened t' door?" "Your answer?" demanded the reeve. "Ey canna gi' it now," replied the miller. "Come in, Bess; come in." "Ey conna," she replied. "Open t' door, mon." "Your answer, I say?" said the reeve. "Gi' me an hour to think on't," said the miller. "Agreed," replied the other. "I will be with you after the funeral." And he sprang through the window, and disappeared before Baldwyn could open the door and admit Bess. CHAPTER VII.--THE PERAMBULATION OF THE BOUNDARIES. The lane along which Richard Assheton galloped in pursuit of Mother Chattox, made so many turns, and was, moreover, so completely hemmed in by high banks and hedges, that he could sec nothing on either side of him, and very little in advance; but, guided by the clatter of hoofs, he urged Merlin to his utmost speed, fancying he should soon come up with the fugitives. In this, however, he was deceived. The sound that had led him on became fainter and fainter, till at last it died away altogether; and on quitting the lane and gaining the moor, where the view was wholly uninterrupted, no traces either of witch or reeve could be discerned.