Her discontent was too great, and she was in a fitter mood
for murmuring than prayer.
Leaning her long thin chin upon a little crutch, and throwing her
bleared eyes full upon the dame, old Molly abruptly exclaimed, in a
voice like the croaking of a raven--
"Thou hast asked for children, but they are denied thee. What said I to
thee, Goody Dickisson, in the clough yonder, by the hollow trunk of the
oak? Rememberest thou, when thou saidest thou wouldst pawn thy body for
the wish of thy soul?"
Dame Dickisson waxed pale, and her knees shook; but the hag went on.
"Worship the master I serve, and thou shalt have thy desire--ay and
more!"
"More!--What meanest thou?"
"Come to the feast, as I have bidden thee. If thou likest not the savour
of our company, thou shalt depart, and without harm."
"But who shall give me a safe conduct that I come back, and harmless as
I went? Once in your possession, methinks"----
"What!" shouted the beldame, with a look of dark and devilish
malignity:--"the word of a prince! Shall Goody Dickisson, the miller's
wife, hold it in distrust? Go, poor fool, and chew thy bitterness, and
bake thy bannocks, and fret thy old husband until thy writhen flesh rot
from thy bones, and thou gnawest them for malice and vexation.
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