"Whew! How is that? Not love me? And wherefore not, old woman?"
"Because she will love another," repeated the hag in a low, but firm, decided tone.
"But you are spoiling your fair pictures, Aunt Patty," said Hardin.
"Destiny is destiny," said she with a solemn look.
"Ay, yes; I forgot!" he exclaimed, laughing gayly. "Come, Sumpter, let's be off. I am afraid our good seeress will discover you and I fighting a duel in that ominous cup, or brewing a tempest in her teapot."
"Ha, ha, ha! it is not impossible," ejaculated Sumpter. "Now I believe she did say I would go out of the world in a terrible uproar, shooting somebody or getting shot myself. Which was it, dame?"
"Time will tell you soon enough, young man," returned the woman, in an angry, scornful tone.
"O, don't be cross, good Aunt Patty!" he said, noticing her dark looks; "don't mind my balderdash. Here's another piece of silver for you. Now, good-night, and long live Scraggiewood and the seeress, Madam Belcher!"
"Good-night, young men, and God bless ye, I say!" exclaimed the crone, her eye brightening at sight of the silver.
"Just tell me the name of the little sleeper," said Sumpter, lingering a moment, while Hardin turned the carriage which had brought them to the forest-cottage.