murmured and exhibited such strong tokens of displeasure, that the guard
thought it prudent to keep them off with their halberts. But when all
was done, Demdike motioned to a man standing behind him to advance, and
the person who was wrapped in a russet cloak complied, drew forth an
infant, and held it in such way that the abbot could see it. Paslew
understood what was meant, but he uttered not a word. Demdike then knelt
down beside him, as if ascertaining the security of the cords, and
whispered in his ear:--

"Recall thy malediction, and my dagger shall save thee from the last
indignity."

"Never," replied Paslew; "the curse is irrevocable. But I would not
recall it if I could. As I have said, thy child shall be a witch, and
the mother of witches--but all shall be swept off--all!"

"Hell's torments seize thee!" cried the wizard, furiously.

"Nay, thou hast done thy worst to me," rejoined Paslew, meekly, "thou
canst not harm me beyond the grave. Look to thyself, for even as thou
speakest, thy child is taken from thee."

And so it was. While Demdike knelt beside Paslew, a hand was put forth,
and, before the man who had custody of the infant could prevent it, his
little charge was snatched from him. Thus the abbot saw, though the
wizard perceived it not. The latter instantly sprang to his feet.

"Where is the child?" he demanded of the fellow in the russet cloak.

"It was taken from me by yon tall man who is disappearing through the