The Daylight Gate by Jeanette Winterson Page A

no stocks, no chains, no hanging, no burning ,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Write it down. Witness it, Master Nowell.’
    ‘Who is it?’ said Potts. ‘Who is the witch?’
    ‘Alice Nutter,’ said Elizabeth Device.

The Hourglass Running
     
    ALICE NUTTER RETURNED to the Rough Lee. The herbalist was waiting for her with the poppet.
    ‘Now do you believe me?’
    Alice nodded. She was shaking. She did not tell her about the head. ‘Will you help me?’
    Together they packed the chest with silver and clothes, and had the stable boys load it onto a cart hitched to the herbalist’s donkey, and away she went with money to take two horses and a coach to Manchester the next morning.
    Alice secured her jewels and cash and deeds of deposit in a soft leather bag and hid the bag in the passage that connected her study and bedroom. She took several vials of liquid from her cupboard, and as she did so, she saw Edward Kelley’s letter where she had put it on the day that it burned.
    She took it out.
    And if thou callest him, like unto an angel of the north wearing a dark costume, he will hear thee and come to thee. Yet meet him where he may be met – at the Daylight Gate
.
    She put the letter inside her dress.
    Then she opened a small box and took out a tiny mirror. The mirror had a silver rim and a silver back and its glass was made of mercury. This was the mirror that John Dee had given her.
    There was one thing left: the vial of elixir.
    She went to bed. She turned her hourglass to start its running. She would rise by 2 a.m. and be gone before three o’clock.

And Running Out
     
    IT WAS AROUND nine o’clock at night when Christopher Southworth rode into Lancaster.
    He lodged his horse at the Red Lion near Gallows Hill, took a room for himself and ate bread and meat. Then leaving unnoticed on foot he made his way to Lancaster Castle.
    It was easy enough to get past the sentries. The fog had not lifted. He was as good as invisible. He had a rope and a hook and he scaled the wall. He had done this before.
    He found the Well Dungeon by the grating in the ground.
    He lay down. ‘Jane!’
    Jane Southworth was standing in her customary spot under the grating, waiting for rain. She heard her name . Now she knew she had gone mad. The voice came again. ‘Jane!’
    She looked up the thirty feet to the grating. She could see nothing. Then she heard the grating being lifted away. She looked round. The others were asleep but for Nance Redfern who was somewhere with the gaoler.
    A rope dropped down into the dungeon. Down the rope came Christopher Southworth.
    ‘Jane!’ He threw his arms around her. She knew then that she must be dead. ‘Jane, climb onto my back and we will be gone. Hurry!’
    She looked at him, shaking her head. ‘Is it you, Kit? Am I dead?’
    He gave her water and she drank the whole flask. He gave her a piece of meat that she ate slowly, never taking her eyes off him. He told her that she was not dead. That he had come from France to rescue her.
    ‘It is a plot,’ she said. ‘They had a child accuse me of holding the Black Mass. My maid accused me of sticking pins into a poppet. They will find any way to ruin the Southworths.’
    He held her to him. She was bones and filth. He wanted to cry and he wanted to tear the dungeon apart with his hands.
    ‘Catch hold fast to my body. I have strength to pull us both out of here. We shall go at once to London and then to France.’
    She shook her head. ‘If I stand trial I may be acquitted. If I escape with you tonight, even if we are not caught, then they will claim it as witchcraft.’
    ‘What of it?’
    ‘Then they have won. If they win others will suffer. And do you believe that they do not know you are here?’
    ‘They are looking for me in Pendle. Not here. Come with me.’
    Old Demdike woke up. Her eyes were filmy with cataracts but she could see the tall dark outline of Christopher Southworth. ‘It is the Dark Gentleman! I knew he would come!’
    Alizon Device