CHAPTER II.--THE ERUPTION.


Demdike went a little further down the hill, stopping when he came to
the green patch. He then plunged his staff into the sod at the first
point where he had cast a tuft of heather, and with such force that it
sank more than three feet. The next moment he plucked it forth, as if
with a great effort, and a jet of black water spouted into the air; but,
heedless of this, he went to the next marked spot, and again plunged the
sharp point of the implement into the ground. Again it sank to the same
depth, and, on being drawn out, a second black jet sprung forth.

Meanwhile the hostile party continued to advance up the dry channel
before mentioned, and shouted on beholding these strange preparations,
but they did not relax their speed. Once more the staff sank into the
ground, and a third black fountain followed its extraction. By this
time, the royalist soldiers were close at hand, and the features of
their two leaders, John Braddyll and Richard Assheton, could be plainly
distinguished, and their voices heard.

"'Tis he! 'tis the rebel abbot!" vociferated Braddyll, pressing forward.
"We were not misinformed. He has been watching by the beacon. The devil
has delivered him into our hands."

"Ho! ho!" laughed Demdike.

"Abbot no longer--'tis the Earl of Poverty you mean," responded
Assheton. "The villain shall be gibbeted on the spot where he has fired
the beacon, as a warning to all traitors."