"No," replied the abbot, shuddering; "I will not baptise a daughter of
Satan. I will not sell my soul to the powers of darkness. I adjure thee
to depart from me, and tempt me no longer."

"Vainly thou seekest to cast me off," rejoined Demdike. "What if I
deliver thine adversaries into thine hands, and revenge thee upon them?
Even now there are a party of armed men waiting at the foot of the hill
to seize thee and thy brethren. Shall I show thee how to destroy them?"

"Who are they?" demanded the abbot, surprised.

"Their leaders are John Braddyll and Richard Assheton, who shall divide
Whalley Abbey between them, if thou stayest them not," replied Demdike.

"Hell consume them!" cried the abbot.

"Thy speech shows consent," rejoined Demdike. "Come this way."

And, without awaiting the abbot's reply, he dragged his horse towards
the but-end of the mountain. As they went on, the two monks, who had
been filled with surprise at the interview, though they did not dare to
interrupt it, advanced towards their superior, and looked earnestly and
inquiringly at him, but he remained silent; while to the men-at-arms and
the herdsmen, who demanded whether their own beacon-fire should be
extinguished as the others had been, he answered moodily in the
negative.

"Where are the foes you spoke of?" he asked with some uneasiness, as
Demdike led his horse slowly and carefully down the hill-side.