Let meh dee i' peace." "Thou wilt not die, I tell thee, Cuthbert," cried Bess; "Nicholas hath staunched thy wound." "He stawncht it, seyst to ?" cried Ashbead, raising.

"Ey'st never owe meh loife to him." And before he could be prevented he tore off the bandage, and the blood burst forth anew.
"It is not my fault if he perishes now," observed Demdike, moodily.
"Help him--help him!" implored Bess.
"He shanna touch meh," cried Ashbead, struggling and increasing the effusion.

"Keep him off, ey adjure thee.

Farewell, Bess," he added, sinking back utterly exhausted by the effort.
"Cuthbert!" screamed Bess, terrified by his looks, "Cuthbert! art thou really dying?
Look at me, speak to me! Ha!" she cried, as if seized by a sudden idea, "they say the blessing of a dying man will avail.

Bless my child, Cuthbert, bless it!" "Give it me!" groaned the forester.
Bess held the infant towards him; but before he could place his hands upon it all power forsook him, and he fell back and expired.
"Lost! lost! for ever lost!" cried Bess, with a wild shriek.
At this moment a loud blast was blown from the gate-tower, and a trumpeter called out, "The abbot and the two other prisoners are coming." "To thy feet, wench!" cried Demdike, imperiously, and seizing the bewildered woman by the arm; "to thy feet, and come with me to meet him!".