Back at the cottage, I went to the room where the Spook kept his walking clothes. I chose one of his
old cloaks. It was too big, of course, and the hem came down almost to my ankles while the hood kept
falling down over my eyes. Still, it would keep out the worst of the cold. I borrowed one of his staffs too,
the one most useful to me as a walking stick: it was shorter than the others and slightly thicker at one end.
When I finally left the cottage, it was close to midnight. The sky was bright and there was a full moon
just rising above the trees, but I could smell rain and the wind was freshening from the west.
I walked out into the garden and headed directly for Mother Malkin’s pit. I was afraid, but someone
had to do it and who else was there but me? It was all my fault anyway. If only I’d told the Spook about
meeting Alice and what she’d told the lads about Lizzie being back! He could have sorted it all out then.
He wouldn’t have been lured away to Pendle.
The more I thought about it, the worse it got. The child on the Long Ridge might not have died. I felt
guilty, so guilty, and I couldn’t stand the thought that another child might die and that would be my fault
too.
I passed the second grave where the dead witch was buried head down, and moved very slowly
forward on my tiptoes until I reached the pit.
A shaft of moonlight fell through the trees to light it up, so there was no doubt about what had
happened.
I was too late.
The bars had been bent even further apart, almost into the shape of a circle. Even the butcher could
have eased his massive shoulders through that gap.
I peered down into the blackness of the pit but couldn’t see anything. I suppose I had a forlorn hope
that she might have exhausted herself bending the bars and was now too tired to climb out.
Fat chance. At that moment a cloud drifted across the moon, making things a lot darker, but I could
see the bent ferns. I could see the direction she’d taken. There was enough light to follow her trail.
So I followed her into the gloom. I wasn’t moving too quickly and I was being very, very cautious.
What if she was hiding and waiting for me just ahead? I also knew that she probably hadn’t got very far.
For one thing, it wasn’t more than five minutes or so after midnight. Whatever was in the cakes she’d
eaten, I knew that dark magic would have played some part in getting her strength back. It was a magic
that was supposed to be more powerful during the hours of darkness - particularly at midnight. She’d
only eaten two cakes, not three, so that was in my favour, but I thought of the terrible strength needed to
bend those bars.
Once out of the trees, I found it easy to follow her trail through the grass. She was heading downhill
but in a direction that would take her away from Bony Lizzie’s cottage. That puzzled me at first, until I
remembered the river in the gully below. A malevolent witch couldn’t cross running water - the Spook
had taught me that - so she would have to move along its banks until it curved back upon itself, leaving
her way clear.
Once in sight of the river, I paused on the hillside and searched the land below. The moon came out
from behind the cloud, but at first, even with its help, I couldn’t see anything much down by the river
because there were trees on both banks, casting dark shadows.
And then suddenly I noticed something very strange. There was a silver trail on the near bank. It was
only visible where the moon touched it, but it looked just like the glistening trail made by a snail. A few
seconds later I saw a dark, shadowy thing, all hunched up, shuffling along very close to the riverbank.
I started off down the hill as quickly as I could. My intention was to cut her off before she reached the
bend in the river and was able to head directly for Bony Lizzie’s place. I managed that and stood there,
the river on my right, facing downstream. But next came the difficult part. Now I had to face the witch.
I was trembling and shaking and so out of breath that you’d have thought I’d spent an hour or so
running up and down the fells. It was a mixture of fear and nerves, and my knees felt as if they were going
to give way any minute. It was only by leaning heavily on the Spook’s staff that I was able to stay on my
feet at all.