CHAPTER VII
THE WITCHES' CAVE
As I look back over what I am now about to relate, my mind is strangely confused with the amount of reality and unreality that appeared. At one time I am inclined to think it all real, at another I am led to regard it as pure imagination, or as due to the credulity of a hot-brained youth. Be that as it may, however, I will try and set down what I remember as faithfully as I can.
After Wilfred had gone things were very quiet. My mother seldom spoke to me, but kept Ruth by her side, until the two became, as it seemed to me, almost inseparable. Indeed, she took far more notice of Ruth than she did of her own daughters. As a consequence my sisters and I were often together, until the villagers came to say that Roger Trewinion wanted no sweethearts but his sisters.
On the afternoon of a sultry autumn day, some time after Wilfred had gone to Oxford, I had to walk past Deborah Teague's cottage, and saw the old woman sitting on the doorstep quietly smoking.
"Come ere, Maaster Roger," she said; "I've been waitin' for 'ee a bra long while."
I looked at her in astonishment.
"Iss' my dear, I knawed you was a comin', so I says I'll jist wait for Maaster Roger."
"How did you know I was coming?"
"Knaw!" she replied, "what doan't I knaw? But come in, I want to talk to 'ee."