“Ha! the lubbard oafs. You know better than to believe them, Dick.”
“Nay, sir, but ’tis her bower-woman and Madge, the cook’s wife. Both aver that the lady hath bewitched whoever comes in her way ever since she crossed the door. She hath wrought strange things with her father, mother, and brothers. They say she bound them to her; that the little one could not brook to have her out of sight; yet she worked on him so that he was crooked and shrivelled. Yet he wept and cried to have her ever with him, while he peaked and pined and dwindled away. And her mother, who was once a fine, stately, masterful dame, pined to mere skin and bone, and lay in lethargy; and now she is winding her charms on you, sir!”
Pierce made an exclamation of loathing and contempt. Dick lowered his voice to a whisper of awe.
“Nay, sir, but Le Tordu and Ned of the Bludgeon purpose to ride over to Shields to the wise, and they will deal with her when he has found the witch’s mark.”
“The lady!” cried Hardcastle in horror. “You see her what she is! A holy woman if ever there was one! At mass each morning.”
“Ay, but the wench Thora told Ralph that ’tis prayers backward she says there. Thora has oft heard her at night, and ’twas no Ave nor Credo as they say them here.”
Pierce burst out laughing. “I should think not. They speak gibberish, and she, for I have heard her in Church, speaks words with a meaning, as her priest and nuns taught her.”
“But her face, sir. There’s the Evil One’s mark. One side says nay to the other.”
“The Evil One! Nay, Dick, he is none other than Sir Leonard himself. ’Twas he that all unwittingly, when a boy, fired a barrel of powder close to her and marred her countenance. You are not fool and ass enough to give credence to these tales.”
“I said not that I did, sir,” replied the page; “but it is what the men-at-arms swear to, having drawn it from the serving-maid.”
“Moreover,” continued the boy, “they have found out that there is a wise man witch-finder at Shields. They mean to be revenged for the scanty fare and mean providings; and they deem it will be a merry jest in this weary hold, and that Sir Leonard will be too glad to be quit of his gruesome dame to call them to account.”
It was fearful news, for Pierce well knew his own incompetence to restrain these strong and violent men. He did not know where his knight was to be found, and, if he had known, it was only too likely that these terrible intentions might be carried out before any messenger could reach him. Indeed, the belief in sorcery was universal, and no rank was exempt from the danger of the accusation. Thora’s treachery was specially perilous. All that the young man could do was to seek counsel with Cuthbert Ridley, and even this he was obliged to do in the stable, bidding Dick keep watch outside. Ridley too had heard a spiteful whisper or two, but it had seemed too preposterous for him to attend to it. “You are young, Hardcastle,” he said, with a smile, “or you would know that there is nothing a grumbler will not say, nor how far men’s tongues lie from their hands.”