“Dear heart,” said Janet, “you do us honour.” She skilfully lifted the peats with the long tongs and rearranged them on a different part of the hearth and soon there was a bright fire.
“That’s a merry blaze,” said Aline; “it seems to cheer one’s heart.”
For an hour they sat and talked about Newbiggin; and the child, with what she already knew, was able to make a shrewd estimate of the true state of affairs.
After a while the subject not unnaturally turned to “Moll o’ the graves” and Aline was dismayed when she heard that Moll had been talking about seeing a man on the moors, and saying that it would be the beginning of troubles.
“What did she mean by that?” asked Aline.
“She would not explain,” said Janet; “she refused to tell any one anything more. ‘The time is not yet, the time is not yet,’ she kept repeating; ‘when all is ready and I have discovered the workings of the fates, I will tell you more than you wish to know.’”
“People have gossiped about it a great deal,” Janet went on, “but Moll will say nothing further.”
“I trust that her evil desires may be foiled,” said Aline, “but I must not tarry.”
As she went up the street she again met Father Laurence coming out of Peter’s cottage and he seemed more sorrowful than ever.