"Hush!"—hissed the woman with a warning gesture.
The unknown did not seem, however, to have noticed this little piece of by-play.
At that moment the report of a gun was heard from the headsman's window. At night he used regularly to discharge his firearms and load them again immediately afterwards. He was afraid that someone might have got at them in the course of the day and either extracted the bullets or damped the powder. He did not feel himself safe in his own house, and always locked the door of his room before he lay down to sleep.
"Now you will be able to have a talk with him if you like," said the virago. "The girl will come down presently, as usual, to fetch him his water for the night, you can let her know that you are here and want to speak to him."
Shortly afterwards the door opened and, with a lighted taper in one hand and a ewer in the other, the moon-pale little maid entered the room. She came very quietly, as if afraid of making the slightest noise. Her beautiful blonde locks had been unloosed, for it was bedtime, and strayed freely over her smooth snow-white shoulders, her tiny bare feet seemed to kiss rather than touch the ground.
The stranger gazed at the gentle creature with rapt delight. She did not appear to notice him in the semi-darkness, as she glided past him through the vestibule on her way to the well.
"Is that your own child, my fair dame?" asked the unknown, flashing his eagle eyes full upon the woman.
"Yes, my own child!"
"How fair she is, and how pale!"
The woman laughed.