The Daylight Gate Read Online Free PDF

Hall. But they had not courted; they had gone to law. Roger Nowell claimed a parcel of land as his. Alice Nutter claimed it as hers. She had won the lawsuit. Roger Nowell had never lost anything before – except his wife.
    The servant showed her into the study where the fire was piled high. A bottle and two goblets waited on a small table. It was a masculine room that smelled of tobacco, but not unpleasantly. He had books, writing paper. She liked it.
    The firelight and the candlelight lit up her magenta riding habit so that it had the curious effect of seeming as though it were made of water that was on fire. The luminescence of the dye was the secret of Alice’s fortune.
    Roger Nowell entered and she turned to him smiling. He was taken aback for a moment; what a beautiful and proud woman she was. He smiled too.
    He did not ask if she wanted wine but poured it for her into one of the silver goblets. ‘Hospice de Beaune,’ he said. ‘A Jesuit brought it back from Burgundy.’
    He drank and refilled his own goblet. ‘Damn pity about the papists. They have better wine than the Protestants.’
    ‘And even the Protestants have better wine than the Puritans.’
    Roger Nowell laughed. ‘Mistress Nutter … do not mistake me. I do not much care what form of worship a man chooses, or whether his conscience is guided by a priest or his own prayers. I do not much care if a stupid old woman thinks Satan can feed her when others won’t. But I am a practical man and I have to do my duty.’
    ‘What is your duty tonight?’
    ‘To question you about the Demdike.’
    ‘Lancashire is brim-full of witches, it seems,’ said Alice Nutter.
    ‘So our visitor Master Potts believes. He is shivering on the top of Pendle Hill watching the sky for broomsticks.’
    He poured her more wine. He was dressed in black velvet and he walked softly like a panther. She had never found him attractive before. He raised his goblet, smiling. ‘Here’s to Potts, our draughty little lawyer from London.’
    They drank. He said, ‘I do not like lawyers and their meddling.’
    ‘Yet you took me to court over the land.’
    It was the wrong thing to say. His mouth closed from a smile to a line. He was no longer genial. ‘You know my position on that land – I still believe it is mine but I am willing to abide by the law.’
    ‘As am I, sir. But as for the law and witchcraft, the Demdike are to be pitied, not punished.’
    ‘The meeting at Malkin Tower was for some purpose , Mistress, and I believe you know what that purpose was. Will you tell me?’
    ‘If they think they are witches does that make them so? They will not be escaping Malkin Tower by broomstick however much Master Potts wants to see them fly over Pendle Hill.’
    Roger Nowell nodded his head, silent for a moment. ‘And yet the Demdike live on your land.’
    ‘That is charity, sir, not a lease from the Dark Gentleman.’
    ‘You know that gentleman perhaps?’
    Alice was perplexed. She had not expected this. She turned away. He stepped round in front of her, handsome, dangerous.
    ‘I am not accusing you of being a hedge-witch. Demdike and Chattox deal in dolls with pins stuck in them and horseshoes turned upside to drain a man’s luck and maybe his life. Did they maim John Law? I am sure he ran so fast his heart burst.’
    ‘Then …’ said Alice. ‘I do not see …’
    Roger Nowell held up his hand. ‘I have travelled in Germany and the Low Countries. Do you know the story of Faust?’
    ‘I saw Kit Marlowe’s play
Doctor Faustus
when I lived in London.’
    ‘Then you know that Faust makes a pact with Satan through his servant Mephistopheles. That pact brings immense wealth and power to those who will sign it in blood. Such men and women are unassailable. They triumph in lawsuits, for example.’
    Roger Nowell paused. Alice felt sick. She said nothing.
    ‘The wealth of such persons is often a mystery. They will buy a fine house, find ample funds, and yet, where does the money