[figure description] Page 117.[end figure description]

When Robert Lester, now Kyd the pirate, left
the presence of Kate Bellamont, without seeking
the stone steps that descended to the lawn, he leaped
from the low balcony to the ground, and strode,
at a pace made quick and firm by the strength of
his feelings, towards a gate that opened into the
lane in which the inn of Jost Stoll was situated.
Avoiding the narrow street, though it was silent
and deserted, he turned his footsteps aside towards
the beach, and, winding round a ledge of rocks
wildly piled together, with a few shrubs and a
dwarf cedar or two clinging in the clefts, he came
to the mouth of the canal, where his boat lay half
hidden in the shadow of a huge overhanging rock.

“Who comes,” challenged one of several men
that were standing around.

He was too much wrapped in his own dark
thoughts to hear or give reply, and was only roused
to a consciousness of his position by the cocking
of pistols and the repetition of the challenge in a
sharper tone.

“The Silver Arrow!” he answered, briefly.

“The captain! Advance!” was the reply.

“Ho, Lawrence, you are alert. Yet it should
be so, for we are surrounded by enemies. You

[figure description] Page 118.[end figure description]

must learn, nevertheless, to challenge lower under
the guns of a fort. By the moving of lights and
show of bustle on the ramparts, we have already
drawn the attention of the honest Dutch warriors
whom our English governors have seen fit to retain
to man their works.”

“It's to save linstocks, by making them touch
off the pieces with their pipes,” said Lawrence;
“their powder always smells more of tobacco than
sulphur.”

“A truce to this. Man your oars and put off,”
said Kyd, in a stern tone.

The men knew by the change in his voice that
their chief was in a humour that was not to be disregarded;
and scarcely had the orders passed from
his lips, before every man was in his seat, with his
oars elevated in the air. The coxswain, Lawrence,
at the same time took his place at the helm, and in
a low tone said,

“All's ready.”

“Shove off and let fall,” cried Kyd, in the same
suppressed tone, springing into the stern-sheets.

“What course, captain?”

“Hell Gate,” was the deep response, as he seated
himself in the stern and wrapped his cloak about
him.

“Give way, lads,” followed this information,
from the coxswain, and swiftly the barge shot out
from the mouth of the canal; doubling the south
point of the town, it moved rapidly up the narrow
sound between Long and Manhattan Islands,
now called East River, and was soon lost in the
gloom.

When Kyd parted from Elpsy before the inn, she
had remained standing in the place in which he had
left her until his form was lost beneath the trees surrounding
the White Hall; then, turning towards the

[figure description] Page 119.[end figure description]

street that led by a devious route in the direction
of the north gate of the city, she walked a few moments
rapidly along in the deep shade cast by the
far-projecting roofs of the low Dutch mansions.
Suddenly she stopped.

“He may have a faint heart,” she muttered, as
if her thoughts run upon the interview between the
pirate and noble maiden. “She will not now accept
him as Lester after I have told her who Lester
has become. Oh, I did it to make him use
force in his wooing. I would not have him, after
all that has passed in the last five years, win her
with honour to herself. I would have her humbled.
I would have her become Lady Lester against her
own will. And if he has remaining in his memory
a tithe of her former scorn of him, he will love to
repay her thus. Yet I doubt. I will go back and
see that I am not thwarted. Never shall I rest, in
grave or out, till he is Lord of Lester, and Kate
Bellamont his wedded wife.”

She turned as she spoke, and, retracing her steps
towards the inn, continued on past it towards the
wicket that opened into the park, and, gliding beneath
the trees, stole towards the window of the
maiden's chamber, directed by the light that shone
through the foliage that climbed about it. Aided
by her white staff, she was cautiously ascending a
flight of steps that connected the extremity of the
balcony with the lawn, when she heard Kyd's angry
words at parting, saw him rush forth, leap to
the ground, and take his swift way towards his
boat. Her first impulse was to call him back; but,
suppressing it, she softly approached the window
for the purpose of using her own fearful power
over the minds of all with whom she came in contact,
in giving a turn more favourable to her design
to the alarmed maiden's mind. She was

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arrested by the entrance of the priest as she was in
the act of entering the chamber, and drew instantly
back into the shadow. But she gradually moved
forward into the light of the lamp, and, as her eyes
rested on his features, they grew bloodshotten with
the intensity of her gaze. Her face was thrust
forward almost into the room, her long scragged
neck was stretched to its full length, and her whole
person advanced with the utmost eagerness. It
could not have been the words of the priest or his
manner that caused an excitement so sudden and
extraordinary. She evidently discovered in him a
resemblance that surprised her, while it filled her
soul with a savage and vengeful joy.

“It is he!” she gasped. “Ever before have I
met him cowled! He, he alone! I would know
him in hell! Ha, I have lived for something! Oh,
this knowledge is worth to me mines of gold! I
would have sold my soul for it! The same brow,
still almost as fair; the same mouth, the same rich
light in the eyes, and, save his beard, almost as
young as when last we met. Ha! 'tis he. We
have met to some purpose now. Ho, ho! am I not
getting work to do? This is a new matter on my
hands. I will plot upon it. Ha, dares he? The
hoary lecher! Nay, she has flung him back!
'Tis a proper maiden!” she added, as she saw the
priest foiled in his attempt to sully the purity of the
noble girl's lips.

Thus run the current of the weird woman's
thoughts. With fierce resentment, she listened to
the interview between the confessor and his penitent;
and when a second time she saw him approach
her with unhallowed lip, she sprung upon
him: but whether to save the honour of the maiden's
cheek, or prompted by some feminine feeling

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known only to herself, will, if it is not already so,
doubtless by-and-by be apparent.

After she had quitted the chamber she swiftly
crossed the lawn towards the inn, turned up the
narrow path that bordered the sluggish canal, and,
following it to its termination near the wall, turned
short round some low stone warehouses to the left,
and ascended a narrow, steep street that run along
close to the wall, and therefore had obtained the distinctive
appellation of Wall-street. Getting close
within its deep shadow, she glided along stealthily
till she came to a double gate, over which hung a
small lamp. Beneath the light, leaning against a
guardhouse constructed on one side of the gate, she
discovered a man with a firelock to his shoulder
and a long pipe in his mouth. A few paces from
him walked to and fro a second guard, who from
time to time paused in his walk, and, in a listening
attitude, looked down the broad, open street that
led from the gate to the Rondeel, as if expecting
the approach of some one.

“Sacrement Donner vetter! 'Tish aight ov de
klock, Hanse,” he said, stopping and addressing
his comrade as Elpsy approached; “te relief shall
'ave peen here py dish time, heh?”

“It vill pe te Schietam at frau Stoll's vat keeps
dem,” replied the other, with a grunt of assent.

“Hark, Hanse! dere ish von footshteps along te
vall—no heh?”

“Tish te pigs and te cattlesh. An' if it vas de
peoplesh, vat matter so dey pe inside ov te valls? It
ish against te rogue from te outside ov te vall vot
ve keep te guart here for.”

“Goot, Hanse. Ve lets nopoty in, to pe shure—
nor lets nopoty out neider, heh? Pots gevitter!
Vot vas te passvoord, Hanse? I vas licht mein
bipe mid te paper te captain left mid us.”

[figure description] Page 122.[end figure description]

“Yorck.”

“Yorck. Petween ourshelves, Hanse, Ich don't
like dis new name ov our old city ov Nieuve Amstertam.
Dese Anclish names pe hart to shpeak.
'Twas a wrong ding, Hanse, to put away te olt
name, heh?”

“It vash, mein comrate, no vera koot.”

“Pfui Teufel! Ich am klad I vas shmoke it in
mein bipe. It vas batriotic, heh, Hanse? Let ush
av te olt name pack again, Hanse.”

“Vera koot, mein comrate, Ich vill.”

“Ich too. Now if the peoplesh shay Yorck, tey
shall pe put in de guarthouse for traitor. If tey shay
Nieuve Amstertam, den tey pe Kristian peoplesh
and honest men.”

“If she pe a voman, comrate?”

“Den she shall pe von honest voman, to pe
shure.”

At this juncture of the embryo conspiracy,
hatching in his very stronghold and among his
tried warriors, against the Earl of Bellamont's government,
striking at its very roots, and teeming with
seeds of a civil war, a low, dark figure appeared
from behind the guardhouse and suddenly confronted
them.

“Himmel tausand! Te vitch—te tyfil!” they
both exclaimed in one breath as she stood before
them, plainly visible by the light of the lamp that
illuminated her wild features, and threw into strong
contrasts of light and shadow the prominent angles
of her hideous person.

“Let me forth,” she said, in a commanding tone,
laying her hand with a determined gesture on the
heavy bar that was placed against the gates.

The men drew back in alarm, and uttered exorcisms
expressive of superstitious fear.

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“Will ye not unbar? Brave men are ye to keep
watch and guard over a city's gates. Unbolt!”

“Vat, Hanse, heh?” asked one of the men of
his comrade, whose arm he had grasped; “sall ve
lets her go?”

“It vill pe pest to hav' her on te outside, comrate.”

“So it vill pe, Hanse. Ve had petter let her
out. I vill see if she knows te voord. Vitch vomans,
vat ish te password, heh?”

“I give neither password nor countersign. I go
and come as I list, and no man can hinder me.
Stand aside.”

As she spoke she placed her hands on the heavy
bar, lifted it from its bed, and threw it at their feet.
Then, turning the massive key that remained in
the lock, the wide leaves flew open.

“Ve must not let it pe, Hanse, mitout te voord.”

“Nor mitout leave, neider, comrate,” cried one
after the other, both being inspired with sudden energy.

“Ve shall pe shot.”

“Ant hung too.”

With one impulse they rushed forward to secure
the gate, when she closed it fast in their faces, and
they heard the key turn in the lock on the outside
with a scornful laugh.

“Himmel! It ish lockt insite ve pe, Hanse, heh?”

“Ant she tid not shay Yorck, comrate.”

“Nor Nieuve Amstertam neider. If she vas say
only Nieuve Amstertam now.”

“Tere ish no more need to keep guart, comrate.
Nopody can get in.”

“Tunder! no more dey can, Hanse, heh?
'Tish after aight o'klock, and te relief ish not been
come. Dere ish no more use to keep guart,
Hanse, heh?”

[figure description] Page 124.[end figure description]

“Tyfil, no. Ve vill go ant get some Schietams.”

“So ve vill, Hanse, ant a fresh bipe too.”

Thus determining, the stalwort guard of the city
gates of ancient Amsterdam shouldered their firelocks,
and, confident in the security of the city, descended
the street together in the direction of the
alehouse of frau Jost Stoll, while Elpsy kept on
her course through the suburbs. Directly after
leaving the gate she turned from the road which,
bordered by forests, small farms, and here and
there a lonely dwelling, run from the gates in a
northerly direction. The path she took was a green
lane, famous for lover's rambles, that led towards
the East River. She traversed it at a swift running
pace, now winding round some vast tree that
grew in its centre, now ascending, now descending,
as the path accommodated itself to the irregularities
of the ground. In a few minutes she came to a
romantic spring, open to the sky for many yards
around, with greenest verdure covering the earth.
She recognised it as a favourite resort for the industrious
maidens of the town, who there were accustomed
to bleach the linen they wove—and skilful
weavers too were the rosy and merry Dutch maidens
of that homely day! At evening they would
go out to gather their bleaching; and, ere they left
the spring on their return, the youths of the town
would make their appearance, and, each singling
out his sweetheart, take her burden under one arm,
while, with the blushing girl hanging on the other,
slowly they walked through the shady lane towards
the town. Happy times! Gentle customs! Unsophisticated
age! Oh, Maiden-lane, busy, shopping
Maiden-lane! thy days of romance are passed!
Who can identify thee with this green lane!
But this is no place to eulogize thee; yet who may

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travel over the olden-time scenes of New Amsterdam,
and not pause to pay them the tribute of a
thought!

After leaving the spring, her way faintly lighted
by the stars, the sorceress struck into a path that
led northeasterly; and, after a rapid walk of nearly
a mile, came to the shore of East River at a point
that could not have been reached by water without
going over nearly twice the distance she had come
by the forest. Descending the steep shore, she
stopped at the head of a small creek that made a
few yards into the land, and drew from beneath
the shelter of a thickly-netted grapevine a light Indian
birch canoe of the frailest structure. Stepping
lightly into it, giving her weight accurately to
the centre, she seated herself on the crossbar that
constituted both the seat and strengthening brace
of the bark: striking the water lightly with a
slender paddle, she shot rapidly out of the creek.
The moon had just risen, and flecked a trembling
path of silvery light along the water. Plying the
magic instrument, first on one side and then on the
other alternately, she darted along the surface of
the water with inconceivable velocity. Her course
was northwardly in a line with the shore, close
to which she kept. Every few minutes she would
cease her toil and bend her ear close to the water,
listening for sounds; and then, with a smile of gratification,
renew her swift course. At length, as she
rounded an elevated point, the distant fall of oars
reached her ears in the direction of the town.

“He comes! He has gained on me! I must
be there to prepare for him! Hey, my little bark,
let us fly now!”

She stood up in the skiff as she spoke, the moonlight
streaming on her dark face, flung her cloak
from her shoulders, and, tossing back her long red

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hair, seized the paddle with a firmer grasp, and
away like a mad thing flew witch and boat. Soon
she turned a headland, and the waves began to be
violently agitated, tossing and bubbling round her,
while a roar of breaking surges was heard in the
direction towards which she was driving. Far and
wide the solemn moan of agitated waters filled the
air. She shouted with the dash of the waves, and
hissed as they bubbled and foamed in her track.
Momently the commotion grew wilder and more
appalling. The waters seethed like a boiling caldron.
Whirlpools turned her skiff round and round
like a feather, and yawning gulfs threatened each
moment to ingulf her. Yet on she flew, standing
upright in the boat, her hair streaming in the wind,
her garments flying, and sending the boat irresistibly
through the terrible commotion. The passage
now became narrow, and on every side frowned
black rocks, threatening destruction to the bark that
should be dashed against their sides. Suddenly,
when it appeared the boat could not survive an instant
longer, by a dexterous application of her paddle
she forced it from the boiling seas into a placid pool,
sheltered by a low ledge, that formed the southern
spur of a small islet a few rods square that stood
at the mouth of “Hell Gate” on the north side.

“Ha, is it not a proper place for a witch, amid
the mad waves and gloomy rocks! Oh, 'tis a home
I love! The noise of the water is merry music!
when it is lashed by a storm, the birds go sweeping
and shrieking by like mad, and then it is music
sweeter than the harp to Elpsy. So, I have well
done my errand, and found him as he landed, and
he is now on his way to me. And who besides
Robert have I seen? Ah—have I not made a
good night's work of it! Well, it shall go ill with
me if I reap not the fruit of what I have learned.
Ho, Cusha, slave!”

[figure description] Page 127.[end figure description]

As she called thus in a harsh, stern tone, she drove
her skiff into a crevice in the rocks, where it became
firmly fixed, and, stepping from it, she bounded
lightly up the precipitous shore to the summit.
The top of the rock, which was but a few feet
from the water, so far as could be seen by the light
of the moon, was a grassy surface, dotted with a
few stunted trees and one large oak, that with its
broad arms nearly shadowed the entire islet. Between
the columns of the trees all around the sky
and water were visible. But in one place it was
broken by the outline of a large rock and the roof
of a low hut placed against it, directly beneath the
oak. It was a rude, rough structure, wild and
desolate in its appearance. On one side it overhung
the foaming waters, that leaped so high beneath
it as to fling the spray upon its roof. In
every part of it were crevices, from which, as the
sorceress looked towards it on arriving on a level
with it, streamed rays of light as if from a bright
flame within; while a volume of thick, dark smoke,
of an exceedingly fetid and sulphurous smell, curled
upward against the sides of the rock, and rolled
heavily away among the foliage of the oak.

“The slave is prepared,” she said, approaching
the hut.

She had taken but a single step towards it when
the deep voice of a bloodhound from within broke
the silence that reigned.

“The hound is alert! Ho, Sceva!”

At the sound of her voice the alarm bark of
the dog was changed into a cry of delight; and,
springing against the door, he would have burst it
through had she not spoken, and, at the same time,
opened it. Instantly the animal sprung upon her
and licked her face with his huge tongue, and
growled a savage sound of welcome. He was a

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brute of vast size, and with long, coarse gray hair,
stiff, uncouth ears, and immense head; around
which, and along his spine to his fore shoulders,
the hair grew long and bristly like a boar's mane.
His eyes were red and fierce in their expression;
and huge tusks, protruding glaringly over either
side of his hanging chops, gave him an aspect still
more repulsive and savage.

“Down, Sceva, down!” she said, sternly, as he
caught his huge paws in the tangled masses of her
hair in his rough caresses; “down, I say!” The
animal slunk from her and crouched upon a pile
of fern in a corner of the hut.

The abode of the sorceress was rude and wild in
the extreme. It was a slight frame of branchless firs,
constructed against a bare rock, which constituted
the east side, or wall of it. The interstices between
the upright stakes were filled in with loose limbs of
trees, and planks from wrecked fisher's boats; the
roof in many places was open to the sky, and in its
centre was a large aperture that served for an outlet
to the smoke that rose from a fire smouldering
beneath a caldron placed underneath. By the fitful
glare it sent round, the interior of the hut, with its
furniture, was distinctly visible. Entwined about
an upright pole that sustained the roof were dead
serpents of enormous size, and of brilliant colours,
their glittering fangs hideously shining in the firelight.
Festoons of toads, lizards, and other revolting
reptiles hung from the ceiling, while round the
wall were placed human bones arranged in fantastic
figures, and ghastly sculls glared on the sight on
every side, while all that could affect the imagination
was conspicuous to the eyes of the observer.
In the caldron in the centre of the hut was
seething a dark liquid that emitted a fetid odour,
and threw up volumes of smoke, which, unable to

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escape freely through the roof, hung heavily to
within a few feet of the ground floor. Over the
caldron bent the figure of an African, who was
stirring the liquid with a human thigh bone, and
occasionally, with a child's scull, dipping a portion
from it and pouring it on the fire beneath, which
instantly flamed up fiercely, casting a blue, baleful
light throughout the hut. The firelight shone bright
upon his person, bringing into relief every feature
of his hideous countenance. His head was of
huge proportions, and deformed, being perfectly
flat on the top, and obtruding in front into a round
forehead like an infant's newly born. It was, save
a thick fringe of hair that hung shaggy and grisly
above his eyes, wholly bald. His eyes were large,
and projected red and wild from their beds, while
his nose and lips were of enormous dimensions,
which, with the total absence of anything like a
chin, gave the lower part of his face a brutelike
look. Yet there was an extraordinary human intelligence
in the expression of his eye, in which
dwelt the light of no common intellect.

He rose as the witch entered, and displayed a
skeleton-like figure of great height, the low roof
compelling him to bend half his length. His neck
was long and scraggy; his shoulders bony; his
arms and legs lank and attenuated; while his fingers,
with the hard skin that clave to them and
their long oval nails, resembled, as he himself did
altogether, save his huge fleshy head, a dried
anatomical preparation. A kilt reaching half way
to his knees, and a sort of cape covering his shoulders
made of the feathers of owls intermingled
with the brilliant dies of snakes' skins, were his
only clothing. He wore about his neck as ornaments
a string of newts' eyes and serpents' fangs,
and on his wrists and ankles were massive bracelets
of silver.

[figure description] Page 130.[end figure description]

“Thy slave welcomes thee,” he said, in a voice
that corresponded with the hideousness of his appearance.

He lifted his hands to his forehead as he spoke,
and made an oriental obeisance nearly to the
earth.

“Thou hast obeyed me, Cusha! 'Tis well!
See that all be ready for the rites. He comes a
second time to secure our aid against the rock and
the shoal, the waves and the wind, the hand of man
and the bolt of Heaven!”

“Comes he in the right spirit?”

“He fears and obeys.”

“'Tis enough.”

“Let nothing be wanting to retain our power
over the minds of mortals; let our art lose no tithe
of its honour. I will now make ready to receive
him. He leaves me not till he has done my bidding,
and through him my ends are answered.
Now let us prepare the rites!”

In the mean while the superstitious victim of the
unholy rites in preparation was on his way towards
the “Witch's Isle.” For nearly an hour the
crew had pulled steadily along, and, save now and
then a cheering cry from the coxswain, urging them
to renewed exertion, not a word was spoken. Silent
and thoughtful, revenge and disappointed love mingled
with shame the while agitating his breast, he
sat by himself in the stern of his boat, and took a
retrospect of his past life.

His sense of honour was now blunted, and the
experience of a reckless life had made him weigh
less nicely his acts, and pay less deference to
the opinions of men. He now laughed at and
cursed what he called his folly in sacrificing, for a
mere boyish notion of honour, his earldom. From
the time he had thrown himself on board the Dane

[figure description] Page 131.[end figure description]

at the tower of Hurtel of the Red Hand, up to the
moment that found him on his way to the abode of
the sorceress, he had been scouring the seas, a bold,
reckless, and sanguinary bucanier. Under the
name of `the Kyd,' or al Kyd, the sea-king—which
had been given him by the Algerine corsairs, among
whom he spread terror whenever he cruised up the
Mediterranean—he had filled the world with tales
of bloodshed and predatory conflict unparalleled in
the annals of piracy. He seemed, from the first
moment he placed his feet on the deck of the Dane,
to have made a shipwreck of principle; to have
buried, as he had said on taking leave of Lady Lester,
all human feeling with the filial kiss he placed on
her unconscious forehead. Yet it has been seen, in
his fight with the yacht which contained the Earl of
Bellamont and Grace Fitzgerald, that he had not
wholly lost sight of every social tie that bound him
to those with whom he had once associated. But
this was the last instance of his sympathy with others.
Henceforward he seemed to war with mankind
as if he would avenge on his species the wrongs of
his birth. The instance here given may be thought
an exaggerated estimate of the rapid growth of vice.
But the daily annals of crime show that it is but a
step from virtue to vice, from innocence to crime.
And, let the cause be strong enough, there is never
an intermediate step.

Had Lester altogether forgotten Kate Bellamont
while running this career? No. His thoughts reverted
to her daily. Sometimes with the gentle
character of his former young love, but oftener
taking colour from his present altered character, and
then they were resentful. Twice he had resolved to
visit Castle Cor, and obtain an interview with her,
and, if not by fair, by foul means, make her his bride.
But he had been pursued and driven from the coast

[figure description] Page 132.[end figure description]

by cruisers, and his intentions had been foiled.
That he loved her still was evident; and if he could
have been rewarded with her hand by doing so, he
would have deserted his present career for her sake.
But these hopes were dissipated from the fear that
she might have discovered that Kyd and he were
one. This suspicion did at times alone prevent his
seeking her out more resolutely and casting himself
at her feet.

At length, a few months previous to the arrival of
Lord Bellamont to assume the government of New-York,
he, with large treasures, came into Long Island
Sound; and, after burying them on Gardiner's
Island, beneath a certain triangular rock which, it
is said, seventy of his men rolled upon the spot, he
came through Hell Gate into East River, where he
anchored. As he sailed past her rock the witch
recognised him, though she had not seen him since
they separated at Hurtel's Tower, and at midnight
paid him a visit in her skiff. She recovered her
former influence over him, crime, as it ever does,
having made him superstitious. From her he
learned that the Earl of Bellamont was to succeed
Governor Fletcher, and that his daughter would
probably accompany him to America. Probing his
feelings in relation to her, she discovered that he
was still attached to her; and to her joy she found,
on feeling his moral pulse, that she had less to fear
than on a former occasion. From the moment Lester
had cast away his title and fled the country, she
had given her whole mind to one single object, if
she should ever again meet him: viz., to bring about
his restoration to his title and estates. She rightly
calculated that time and the lawless school in
which he had placed himself would lead to a revolution
in his feelings. She now found him ripe for
her purpose. Learning from him that he was bound
on a cruise to intercept a fleet from Barbadoes, and

[figure description] Page 133.[end figure description]

was to sail the following day, by his return she expected,
as it turned out, that the Earl of Bellamont
would have reached his new government. Therefore,
before she left his cabin, she drew from him a
promise that he would visit her at her hut the ensuing
night; and there, amid the solemnities of her
art, take the oath to lay claim to the title of Lester,
and woo for the hand of the heiress of Bellamont:
in fine, resume the position, notwithstanding all
that had passed in the long interim, that he had
held before the fatal field of archery at Castle Cor.
Ere the next night, however, two frigates from
Newport, learning his presence in the waters of
Long Island, appeared in sight sailing up the Sound,
when, weighing anchor, he sailed down the East
River, passed boldly between Brooklyn and the
town, exchanged shots with the Rondeel, and, steering
down the bay, put to sea. His second appearance,
and the events that followed it up to the time
when he is approaching the Witch's Island, have
already been narrated.

“Give way, men—pull for your lives!” shouted
the coxswain, as at length they entered the boiling
waters of Hell Gate.

With great exertion and skill, the tide now setting
strongly through the gut, they avoided the dangers
that beset them on every side, and at length
reached the island. Giving orders for his men
to remain in the boat and preserve silence, Kyd
stepped on shore in a secluded cove at the western
extremity of the island most remote from
the abode of the sorceress. He passed through
a dark ravine, that led with many a rugged step
to the top, and, looking round as he reached it, at
length discovered the hut he sought. It was calculated,
combined with the roar of the sea and the
lateness of the hour, and a knowledge of the

[figure description] Page 134.[end figure description]

fearful character of the occupant and of his own evil
purposes in seeking it, to affect his mind with
gloom and superstitious fears. He cautiously,
and not without superstitious awe, approached the
door and struck it with the hilt of his sword.

He was answered by the deep growl of the
bloodhound, and the moment afterward the sorceress
chanted, in a wild, supernatural strain, an Irish
weird hymn, the only part of which he could comprehend
were the last two lines:


“Enter, mortal, if thou bear
Priest nor Bible, cross nor prayer!”

With his drawn sword held firmly in his grasp,
he opened the door. Instantly the place was filled
with a blue flame, by the light of which the various
supernatural paraphernalia of the sorceress's
abode were made visible with the most appalling
distinctness, while sounds infernal and terrific assailed
his ears. He stood a moment filled with
alarm, and overpowered by what he saw and heard.
The sorceress, clothed in a garment apparently of
flame, covered with strange and unearthly figures,
her features wrought up to a supernatural degree
of excitement and wild enthusiasm, stood before the
caldron in a commanding attitude, her hair dishevelled,
her long white wand held towards the intruder,
and every sinew of her arms and neck distinctly
brought into light. A serpent was bound about
her temples, and one was entwined around each of
her naked arms, while a fourth encircled her waist.
Beside her stood a spindle, with a crimson thread
upon it. She fixed her eyes on his with an unearthly
expression as she extended her wand towards
him, and, in a voice that became a priestess of
rites so unholy as she performed, addressed him:

“Welcome, mortal! I have waited for thee.
Kneel.”

[figure description] Page 135.[end figure description]

“Wherefore?” he asked, as if addressing a supernatural
being, his imagination affected by the
circumstances and situation in which he was placed,
and scarcely recognising, in the fearful appearance
and aspect of the sorceress, her whom he had seen
and conversed with but a few hours before.
“Wherefore should I kneel?”

“To swear.”

“The oath?”

“To assume the title of Lester and wed the
heiress of Bellamont.”

“I have sworn it without thy aid. I have seen
her.”

“And she has scorned thee.”

“She has. Foul witch, thou didst betray me to
her!”

“Ha, ha! Thou hast learned this of her.” She
laughed maliciously. “I told her who thou wert,
that she might scorn thee.”

“Fiends! Dost thou not wish me to marry her?”

“Yes; but only against her will.”

“Otherwise she will never. And, by the cross!
I will not bear the haughty scorn with which she
has received me. Witch, I am ready to take the
oath; but, if I take it, thou shalt give me thy aid in
avenging myself.

“On her!”

“Yes, but through her lover.”

“Has she a lover?” asked the sorceress, with
surprise.

“Did not thy art teach thee this?”

“Who?” she demanded, without replying to his
question.

“A certain Captain Fitzroy.”

“He who commanded the ship that brought
them hither. Where were my wits I did not suspect
as much?” she added to herself.

[figure description] Page 136.[end figure description]

“Dost know him?”

“I have seen him on his deck as I passed in
my skiff. He sailed instantly in pursuit of you, or
I should have discovered something of this new
love. She confessed it?”

“Without hesitation. I have sworn to seek him
and cross blades with him.”

“First repeat the oath thou hast come hither to
take.”

“If thou wilt exert all thy skill and art to give
me success in my revenge, I will take it.”

“Swear.”

“Nay. I am told thou hast, as do all of thy unholy
craft, an amulet which, worn on the bosom,
will give him who for the time wears it a charmed
life, and cause him to prosper in all that he undertakes.
This amulet I ask of thee.”

“First lay thy right hand upon the head of the
serpent that binds my waist, and thy left hand upon
thy heart, and, kneeling, swear to obey me in resuming
thy earldom and thy wooing of Catharine of
Bellamont, and it shall be thine.”

He knelt, and with solemnity took the oath, repeating
each word after her in an audible tone.

“This you promise to do or your soul forfeit.”

“This I promise to do or my soul forfeit.”

“Or thy soul forfeit!” repeated, from some unknown
quarter, a sepulchral voice, that made
him start to his feet with mingled surprise and
alarm.

“Woman, what hast thou caused me to do?” he
asked, with superstitious dread.

“No evil, so thou break not thy oath.”

“So thou break not thy oath!” repeated the same
voice, close to his ears.

“Sorceress, I will not break my oath,” he said,
after the surprise at this second interruption had

[figure description] Page 137.[end figure description]

subsided; “but until I have first crossed weapons
with this rival lover, I approach her no more. He
has gone to seek me, therefore should I meet him.
But that he should dare to love where Robert
Lester has loved, is ample reason why we should
meet. Till I find him, be he above the sea, I neither
assume the name of Lester nor see the haughty
heiress of Bellamont. So give me success in
this, and, after, thy wishes shall be fulfilled to the
letter.”

“Darest thou delay?” she said, striding up to
him and taking him by the breast, while her eyes
flashed vindictive fire.

“Thou hast not the whole control over my will,
Elpsy. I fear and respect thy power, but I obey
it and thee only so far as it chimes with my own
ends. I have yielded to thee: now yield to me!
Thy wishes, whatever may have prompted them,
shall soon enough be realized. If thou wilt give
me the amulet, and put thy arts to work and send
me prosperous winds, I will, ere the month end,
hold this Fitzroy my prisoner; and then, by the
cross! in my very cabin shall he be spectator of my
bridal. If in a month I do not meet him, I will
then do thy pleasure.”

The sorceress gradually released her grasp as
he continued, and, when he had ended, said,

“'Tis well. Go.”

“The amulet?”

“Nay. Thou shalt not have it,” she said, firmly.

“By the rood! if thou give it not to me, I will
wring thy shrivelled neck for thee,” he cried, with
sudden impetuosity.

“Lay but the tip o' your least finger upon me,
Robert Kyd, that moment shall thy arm be palsied
to its shoulder, and thy strength leave thy body,
till the infant an hour old shall master thee!”

[figure description] Page 138.[end figure description]

She stepped back as she spoke, and extended
her wand towards him with a menacing gesture.

“Nay, nay, fearful woman,” he cried, betraying
some alarm at her words and threatening attitude,
“I meant not to anger thee. Wilt give the amulet?
I cannot go forth on this mission of revenge
without it. I know its mysterious and wonderful
power, and must avail myself of it on this occasion.
Thou shalt have it after.”

The sorceress looked troubled at his eager anxiety
to possess the mystic seal, and at length said,
in a solemn tone of voice, and with a manner calculated
to have its effect on an imagination the
least tinged with superstition,

“Mortal, thou knowest not what thou seekest!
If he who wears this on his breast fail in his last
trial of its mystic power, he shall become the slayer
of the mother who bore him!”

“What is this to me? I have no mother, sorceress.”

“Ha! well, no, no! thou hast not!” she said,
with a singular expression. “Yet such is the
doom of him in whose hands it fails. Thou shalt
not wear it!”

“I will. If I tear it from thee by violence!”

“'Twill then do thee no good. It must be
placed around thy neck with solemn rites. Thou
shalt have it,” she said, suddenly, after a moment's
thought, “for thy success is my success. The
risk shall be run by me! Hast thou the nerve to
go through the initiating rites?”

“I will stop at nothing. Give it me, with every
hellish charm thou canst invent. Once my revenge
accomplished, take it back.”

“But He'll not give thee back the price thou
payest for it.”

“Ha! Well, be it so! I will not ask it. My

[figure description] Page 139.[end figure description]

soul is as well in the devil's keeping as in my own.
The world beyond has for me neither hopes nor
fears. My present aims accomplished, I care not
for the bugbear future! In the name of the master
whom thou servest, give me the amulet!”

“I obey,” she said, with wild solemnity. “Slave,
appear!”

She cast, as she spoke, a powder upon the flame,
which shot up to the roof and filled the place with
so dazzling a brilliancy that for an instant he was
deprived of sight. The light sunk as suddenly as
it had risen, and he saw before him a tall, skeleton-like
figure, over whose face played an unearthly
glare from the smouldering flame beneath the caldron.
It was the slave Cusha. The pirate chief
gazed on the hideous being with horror; his sword
dropped from his grasp, and an exclamation in the
shape of an exorcism escaped his lips. The sorceress
witnessed his alarm with a triumphant smile;
she then touched and turned her spindle, while
the slave, obedient to her nod, kneeled and began
to kindle the flame and stir the seething caldron.

The bucanier witnessed these preparations with
curiosity not unmingled with dread, yet nevertheless
determined to abide by the issue. All at once
she began to chant: now in a low, deep voice, now
in a high, shrill key, as her words required, the
slave at intervals chiming in in a tone so deep and
sepulchral that the startled bucanier could not believe
that it was human, especially when his eyes
rested on the hideous being from whom it proceeded,
who grovelled on the earth at his feet,

[figure description] Page 140.[end figure description]

As the sorceress chanted this she broke from
the thread what she had wound off, and, approaching
him, chanted,


“Kneel, mortal, kneel!
And let me sever
The pledge that makes thee
His for ever!”

He kneeled before her with the obedient submission
of a child. She then entwined her fingers
in a long lock that grew above the left temple,
and, drawing from her bosom a dagger, held it above
his head and chanted,


“Dost thou believe, Robert Kyd, Robert Kyd,
Nor earth nor air, water nor fire,
Ball nor steel, nor mortal ire,
My potent charm
Have power to harm
Till it fulfil its destiny?”

“I do.”

[figure description] Page 141.[end figure description]

“I do.”

She severed the lock of hair from his temples as
she ceased, and commenced dividing it into four
equal parts. When she had done so she stepped
backward, and, standing in the attitude of a priestess
about to perform an idolatrous sacrifice, cast
a lock into the air, chanting in the same wild manner,

“Prince of Air! take the pledge!”

As she ceased a gust of wind swept over the
islet, as if, so it appeared to the imagination of the
excited victim of the rites, acknowledging the sacrifice.
She then cast a lock upon the ground and
chanted,
“Prince of Earth! take the pledge!”

Instantly the ground on which he stood seemed
to tremble; he heard a deep rumbling as if in caverns
beneath; and the little island appeared to shake
as if an earthquake had answered the appeal.

“Prince of Sea! take the pledge!”

She cast a third lock into the caldron as she repeated
the line: the water boiled and hissed with
a great noise, and the waves from the sea at the
same time seemed to dash with a louder roar against
the rocks below, and flung their spray with a heavy
dash upon the roof. A fourth lock she cast into
the flames, chanting,
“Prince of Fire! take the pledge!”

Instantly the place was illuminated as if with
the most brilliant flashes of lightning, while the
loudest thunder seemed to explode at his feet.

[figure description] Page 142.[end figure description]

He started upright at this, for hitherto he had continued
to kneel, overcome by what he was both a
witness of and a trembling participator in, and with
every sign of mortal wonder and dread, cried,

“Sorceress! avaunt! I will no more of this!”

As she chanted this reproof, she turned to the
slave and continued in the same strain,


“Hast thou the murderous lead
From the grave of the dead?”

“'Tis here,” he said, prostrating himself, and giving
to her, with divers mysterious ceremonies, a
leaden bullet.

“I did,” answered the monster, prostrating himself.

She commenced walking around the caldron,
drawing mystic figures on the ground and in the
air. At the end of the first circuit she chanted,
with slow and solemn gestures and growing energy,

“A brother's hand must have shaped the lead”— at the end of the second, with more spirit, she sung,

The third time she chanted, in a still more exci
ted manner, while she danced about the caldron,

“And a brother's heart the ball have bled.”

[figure description] Page 143.[end figure description]

As she ended her third sibylline circuit around
the fire, she turned to the slave and said,


“Is such this lead?
Swear by thy head!”

“It is,” he responded, crossing his clasped hands
across his forehead, and prostrating himself to the
ground.

“'Tis well.

She now poured the water from the caldron, and,
casting the lead into it, continued to dance round
it, her gestures gradually increasing in wildness
and energy, while in a low, monotonous tone she
chanted unintelligibly certain mystic words, derived
from the ancient Irish incantations. With
folded arms the bucanier watched her aloof. At
length she poured the melted lead into a shallow
vessel containing water, when with a hissing noise
it spread itself out into a shape resembling a human
heart. Instantly the hut was darkened; loud
unearthly noises filled the place; blue flames shot
upward from the head of the sorceress and wizard
slave, and, to the astonished bucanier, the apartment
seemed to be filled with demoniac forms, flitting
and gibbering about him.

Aghast and horror-struck, he cried aloud,

“Merciful Heaven, protect me!”

No sooner had the words gone from his mouth
than the whole hellish confusion and uproar ceased,
while, with an expression of fierce wrath, she cried,

“By that word thou hast taken from the charm
one half its power. It will protect thee from ball,
but not from steel; from earth and fire, but not
from water and air; else, with this amulet against
thy heart, thou wouldst bear a charmed life.”

“'Tis nothing lost,” he answered, recklessly.

[figure description] Page 144.[end figure description]

“If ball can harm me not, a strong arm, quick eye,
and faithful cutlass shall protect me against steel.
Thou hast ensured me victory in love and revenge?”

“I have.”

“More I ask not. Water can scarce drown one
whose home is on the sea. Air I fear not!”

“Take heed, lest one day thou die not in it!”

“Ha! what mean you?”

“Nothing. Kneel while I hang this amulet
about thy neck.”

Attaching to it a strand of her own long hair, she
suspended it about his neck as he kneeled before
her, chanting,


“Mystic charm,
Shield from harm!
Winds and waves,
Be his slaves!
Mortal, naught can injure thee,
Spread thy sail and sweep the sea!
Vengeance now is in thy hand,
Be thy foe on sea or land!
If thy oath be kept not well,
Ill befall thee with this spell!”

Instantly thunder seemed to shake the hut, which
was filled with a sulphurous flame, while a repetition
of the sounds he had before heard filled him
with consternation; and, ere he could rise to his
feet, he was struck to the earth by an unseen hand.

When he recovered himself the hut was deserted,
and, save a ray of moonlight streaming through
the roof, buried in total darkness. Confused, his
senses overpowered, and his imagination excited
by the scenes he had been so prominent and passive
an actor in, he left the hut, the door of which
was wide open, sought his boat, and roused his
men, who, save Lawrence, had fallen asleep.

Giving his orders briefly, he put out from the
Witch's Isle, and at midnight stood on the deck of
his vessel. Shortly afterward he got under weigh,

[figure description] Page 145.[end figure description]

sailed down the Narrows and put out to sea. When
the morning broke, great was the surprise and delight
of the worthy people of New Amsterdam to
find that the stranger had departed as silently and
mysteriously as he had come; and many were the
sage conjectures ventured the following evening by
the worthies that gathered, as usual, about the stoop
of the “Boat and Anchor,” as to his character; and,
sooth to say, they hit not far from the truth.