"What a girl you are for fancying things! It's only the wind," said Mistress Ivy querulously.
"Why, auntie, there it is again! No, no, I'm sure it's someone knocking. I'll just go and see," and she took a candle from the table; but her hand was trembling.
The knocking was audible now to Mistress Ivy as well.
"You just stay where you are, my girl!" she cried shrilly. "It'll be one of these rough chaps from the town, and I won't have you opening the door—no, I won't."
But Hazel paid no attention, and, though her face was white and her eyes very scared, she marched boldly into the shop and called, "Who's there?" through the door.
"By the Sun, Moon and Stars and the Golden Apples of the West!" came the answer.
"Auntie! Auntie!" she cried shrilly, "it's from the Mayor. He has sent a messenger, and you must come."
This brought Mistress Ivy hurrying to her side. Though she was not of an heroic character, she came of good sturdy stock, and she was not going to leave her dead brother's child to face the dangers of the unseen alone, but her teeth were chattering with terror. Evidently the messenger was growing impatient, for he began beating a tattoo on the door and singing in a shrill sweet voice:
"Maids in your smocks
Look well to your locks