Again they gazed into the pot, and as one thin hand held the whirling stick the hag's bony finger pointed mysteriously to the shadow marking the future.
"Be there humps," persisted Tess, "big round humps standin' out as how the hills stand by the lake?"
The hag replied in a hoarse whisper:
"There be no humps, but there air a dead man."
So thoroughly did Tess believe in the witch's words that she sank back with a cry, upon her wet red feet.
"It ain't daddy," she breathed slowly, hardly daring to utter the name.
"There be no humps," repeated Ma Moll. "There air a storm and a dead man, but his face ain't a showin'. There air another dead one on the shore. He ain't the same kind of one, he air—"
"A gamekeeper," filled in Tess.
The witch wobbled her head in assent, as Tessibel leaned over to follow the long finger defining the shadow.