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Roby, John

"Traditions of Lancashire, Volume 1 (of 2)"

Still thou
mayest hide thyself under any form thou shalt choose; but it shall abide
upon thee until midnight. Till then thy spells are powerless. On no
other day shall harm befall thee."
The maiden felt her pride dilate:--her weak and common nature she
thought was no longer a degradation; she seemed as though she could
bound through infinite space. Already was she invested with the
attributes of immateriality, when she awoke!--and in her own chamber,
whither the servants had conveyed her from the crag an hour before,
having found her asleep, or in a swoon, upon the verge of the precipice.
She looked at her hand; the sharp wound was there, and she felt her brow
tingle as if to remind her of that irrevocable pledge.
Lord William sued in vain to the maid of Bernshaw Tower. She repulsed
him with scorn and contumely. He vowed that he would win her, though the
powers of darkness withstood the attempt. To accomplish this impious
purpose, he sought Mause, the witch's dwelling. It was a dreary hut,
built in a rocky cleft, shunned by all as the abode of wicked and
malignant spirits, which the dame kept and nursed as familiars, for the
fulfilment of her malicious will.


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