All her beauty vanished, her eyes blazed, and terror sat on her wrinkled brow.

The hag, on the contrary, crouched lower down, and seemed to dwindle less than her ordinary size.

Writhing as from heavy blows, and with a mixture of malice and fear in her countenance, she cried, "Were I to speak, you would not thank me.

Let me go." "Answer," vociferated Mistress Nutter, disregarding the caution, and speaking in a sharp piercing voice, strangely contrasting with her ordinary utterance.

"Answer, I say, or I will beat thee to the dust." And she continued her gestures, while the sufferings of the old hag evidently increased, and she crouched nearer and nearer to the ground, moaning out the words, "Do not force me to speak.