according to the witch's will. What with
fairy teaching, and Mr. William's clinical
lectures, half-crazed Alison soon got a
reputation for healing powers; so great, that the
Bishop of St. Andrews—a poor, shaken
hypochondriac, with as many diseases on him
as would fill the ward of a hospital —
applied to her for some of her charms and
remedies, which she had the sense to make
palatable enough; namely, spiced claret—a
quart to be drunk at two draughts—and a
boiled capon. It scarcely needed witchcraft
to have prescribed that for a luxurious
prelate, who had brought himself into a state
of chronic dyspepsia by laziness and good
living. Mr. William was very careful of
Alison. He used to go before the fairy folk,
when they set out in the whirlwinds to
plague her, and tell her of their coming; and
he was very urgent that she should not go
away with them altogether, since a tythe of
them was yearly taken down to hell. But,
neither Mr. William's thought nor fairy
power could save poor Alice. She was
"convicted and burnt," never more to be
troubled by epilepsy, or the feverish dreams
of madness.

Nobler names come next upon the records.
Katherine Lady Fowlis, and Hector Munro,
her step-son, were tried on the twenty-second
of July, fifteen hundred and ninety, for
"witchcraft, incantation, sorcery, and poisoning."
Two people were in the Lady's way,
—Margery Campbell, the young lady of
Balnagowan, wife to George Ross of
Balnagowan, Lady Katharine's brother; and
Robert Munro, her step-son, present Baron
of Fowlis, and brother to the Hector Munro
mentioned above. If these two persons were
dead, then George Ross could marry the
young Lady Fowlis, to the pecuniary advantage
of himself and his family. Hector's
quarrel was with his half-brother, George
Munro of Obisdale, Lady Katherine's own
son. The charges against the Lady Katherine
were—the unlawful making of two pictures
representing the young Lady Balnagowan
and Robert Munro, which pictures two
notorious witches, Cristiane Ross and
Marjory M'Allester, alias Loskie Loncart, shot at
with "elf-arrow-heads." But the pictures—
literally images of wax or clay—were broken
by the arrow-heads, and the spell was
destroyed. After this, the Lady made a stoup
or pailful of poison, to be sent to Robert
Munro. The pail leaked, and all the poison
ran out, excepting a very small quantity,
which an unfortunate page belonging to the
Lady tasted, and incontinently died. Again,
another pig or jar full of poison was
prepared; this time of double strength; the
brewer thereof, Loskie Loncart. It was sent
to the young laird by the hands of Lady
Katherine's foster-mother; but she broke
the jar by the way; and, like the page,
tasting the contents, paid the penalty of her
curiosity with her life. The poison was of
such a nature that neither cow nor sheep
would touch the grass where it fell; and
soon the herbage withered away altogether,
in fearful memorial of her guilt. She was
more successful in her attempts on the young
Lady Balnagowan. Her "dittay" sets forth
that the poor girl, tasting of her step-mother's
infernal potions, contracted an incurable
disease; the pain and anguish she suffered
revolting even the wretch who administered
the poison. But she did not die. Nothing
daunted by her failures, the Lady sent far
and wide, and openly too, for various poisons;
consulting with "Egyptians" and notorious
witches as to what would best "suit the
complexions" of her victims; and whether
her ratsbane, which she often tried, should
be administered in eggs, broth, or cabbage.
She paid many sums, too, for more clay
images and elf-arrow-heads, which elf-arrow-heads
are the ancient arrow-heads
frequently found in Scotland; and her
wickedness at last grew too patent even for
her rank to cover. She was arrested and
arraigned; but the jury, composed of the
Fowlis dependants, acquitted her, though
many of her creatures had previously been
"convicted and burnt" on the same charges
as those now made against her.

Hector Munro's trial was somewhat of a
different stamp. His step-mother does not
seem to have had much confidence in mere
sorcery. She put her faith in facts rather
than in incantations, and preferred drugs to
charms. But, Hector was more superstitious
and more cowardly. Parings of nails,
clippings of hair, water wherein enchanted stones
had been laid, were all of as much potency
in his mind as the "ratoun poysoun," so dear
to the Lady; and the method of his intended
murder rested on such means as these. After
a small piece of preliminary sorcery,
undertaken with his foster-mother, Cristian Neill
Dayzell and Marion Mclngareach, "one of
the most notorious and rank witches of the
country," it was pronounced that Hector,
who was sick, would not recover his health
unless the principal man of his blood should
suffer for him. This was found to be none
other than George Munro of Obisdale, Lady
Fowlis's eldest son. George then must die;
not by poison, but by sorcery; and the first
step to be taken was to secure his presence
by Hector's bed-side. Seven times did the
invalid impatiently send for him; and when
at last he did come, Hector said never a
word to him, after his surly "better now that
you have come," in answer to George's
"how's a' with you?" but sat for a full
hour, with his left hand in his brother's
right, working the first spell in silence,
according to the directions of his foster-mother
and the witch. That night, one hour
after midnight, the two women went out
to a "piece of ground lying between two
manors," and there made a grave, near to
the sea flood. A few nights after this—it