"Proud minion," she cried, "thou shall die childless and a beggar!"
The cunning raven flapped his great heavy wings and seemed to croak an assent. He then hopped on his mistress' shoulder, and apparently whispered in her ear.
"Sayest thou so?" said the witch. "Then give it to me, Ralph."
The bird held out his beak, and out popped a plain gold ring.
"Give this to thy mother, Dame Buckley. Say 'tis long since they parted company; and ask if she knows or remembers aught of the Red Woman. Away!"
She threw the ring towards them. Both stooped to pick it up. They examined it curiously for a short space.
"'Tis a wedding-ring," said Buckley, "but not to wed bride of mine. Where was this"——
He stopped short in his inquiry, for lifting up his eyes he found the donor was gone!
Neither of them saw the least trace of her departure. The stone whereon she sat was again vacant. All was silent, undisturbed, save the night breeze that came sighing over the hill, moaning and whistling through the withered bent and rushes at their feet.
The shadows of evening were now creeping softly around them, and the valley below was already wrapped in mist. The air felt very chill. They shuddered, but it was in silence. This fearful vision, for such it now appeared to have been, filled them with unspeakable dread.