himself, stretched on some mouldy rushes, and so much altered, that
he could scarcely have been recognized as the sturdy, ruddy youth
who had quitted the Lances of Lynwood but five weeks before.

"Eustace! Eustace!" he exclaimed, as the face of his late companion
appeared. "Can it be you? Have the saints sent you to my succour?"

"It is I, myself, Leonard," replied Eustace; "and I hope to aid you.
How is it--"

"Let me feel your hand, that I may be sure you are flesh and blood,"
cried Ashton, raising himself and grasping Eustace's hand between his
own, which burnt like fire; then, lowering his voice to a whisper of
horror, "She is a witch!"

"Who?" asked Eustace, making the sign of the cross.

Leonard pointed to a kind of partition which crossed the hut, beyond
which Eustace could perceive an old hag-like woman, bending over a
cauldron which was placed on the fire. Having made this effort, he
sank back, hiding his face with his cloak, and trembling in every
limb. A thrill of dismay passed over the Knight, and the giant,
John Ingram, stood shaking like an aspen, pale as death, and crossing
himself perpetually. "Oh, take me from this place, Eustace,"
repeated Leonard, "or I am a dead man, both body and soul!"

"But how came you here, Leonard?"

"I fell sick some three days since, and--and, fearing infection, Sir
William Felton bade me be carried from his lodgings; the robbers,