“One of the superstitions of your dale,—an old wife's tale, I suppose. Has it been heard for years?”
“No, nor for weeks neither.”
Brown resumed his position in front of the fire, and the hours rolled on.
When the first glimmer of gray appeared in the east, Sim was awakened, and Ralph and he, after eating a hurried breakfast, started away on foot.
Where is Robbie now? A life hangs on the fortunes of this very hour!
“Tell them the horses came from the Woodman at Kendal,” said Ralph as he parted from his old comrade. “You've done better than save our lives, Brown, God bless you!”
“That's a deal more nor my wages, captain,” said the honest fellow.
The snow that had fallen during the night lay several inches deep on the roads, and the hills were white as far up as the eye could trace them. The dawn came slowly. The gray bars were long in stretching over the sky, and longer in making way for the first glint of mingled yellow and pink. But the sunrise came at length. The rosy glaives floated upwards over a lake of light, and the broad continents of cloud fell apart. Another day had breathed through another night.