"Aye," I answered carelessly; "a great one, and a friendly beast enough."
"Was it so? Then I will warrant that the old witch was in a sorely bad temper," he said, laughing again.
"What makes you think that?" I asked, not caring if he answered.
"Why, our folk say that the temper of cat and witch are ever opposite. So when they go to ask aught of the old lady, they wait outside till they see how the cat--which is, no doubt, her familiar spirit--behaves. Then if the beast is wild and savage, they know that its mistress will be in good temper and they may go in. But if the cat is friendly, they may as well go home, else will they be like to get harder words than they would care to hear."
Then I laughed also, and said that there seemed nought strange in the ways of the great cat, but that it behaved as if used to being noticed kindly.
"That is certain," said Relf. "It is not well to offend either mistress or beast. But surely she was ill tempered?"
"There was nothing ill natured in her doing or sayings at all," I said. "The earl angered her a little, but that passed."
"Maybe that was enough to put her familiar into a good temper," said Relf, and was satisfied that the common saying was true.
Then I minded a small black cat that belonged to our leech at Bures in the old days. It would let none come near it but its master. Yet I have many times seen it perched on the shoulder of the town witch, and she hated the leech sorely.
So I fell to thinking of the old home and ways, soon, as I thought, to be taken up again. But at the same time there stole into my mind the feeling that I had grown to love this place.