“That were cruel, mother,” I answered; “we should return good for evil; and those for whom I plead have never wronged you—of that I am certain.”
“Go away, go away, I tell you!” she again cried out; “you have had my reply.”
“This will never do!” I exclaimed to A’Dale, for every instant the rain was coming down heavier and heavier.
The serving-men were holding our horses. Putting our shoulders against the door, we gave a shove together, and it flew open. The hut was much larger than we had expected to find it, and would afford, I saw at a glance, not only shelter for the ladies but for all our party, and for the horses also. At the farther end sat an old crone, her white locks escaping from under her coif; and her bony arms, which were bare to the elbow, extended over a large pan, beneath which were burning coals. She glanced round at us with a look of anger.
“I pray thee, dame, be not offended,” I said, approaching her, while the ladies stood at a little distance. “We have entered your abode with scant ceremony, but have no desire to treat you with disrespect; gladly will we pay, too, for the injury we may have done your door, though we could not remain outside exposed to the pelting storm when shelter was at hand. Had you admitted us without parley, the latch would have remained uninjured, and our tempers would not have been aroused.”
To these remarks she made no reply, but seizing a wand, which lay by her side, began to stir the contents of the pan. As our eyes got accustomed to the gloom of the hut, numerous articles were seen about, which showed us at once the character of the inmate.
“I wish that we had braved the storm rather than have come in here,” whispered Madam Clough. “Perchance, indeed, it was summoned at the beck of this old witch; and by her looks I fear she purposes to work us evil.”
Nothing, could be more forbidding than the aspect of the old dame. Whether witch or not, that she wished to be thought so was very evident. I did not myself share the terror of Madam Clough, nor, I think, did Aveline; still, when I asked the old woman to allow the ladies to approach her fire, in order that they might dry their wet garments, they all drew back, evidently not wishing to be nearer than they were to the witch. She looked up, and uttered a low, croaking laugh, as she saw their terror.
“Ah! ah! ah!—your beauty and your wealth cannot guard you from the power of a wretched old woman like me!” she cried out. “Well, well, when the storm is over, you will ride away, and think no more of me; but I can follow you wherever you go, and find out your thoughts, as I know them now. You think, perhaps, that you are strangers to me—ah! ah! ah!—but I know you well—whence you come, and your future fates. You three fair dames were born in a foreign land, and so was one of you gallant gentlemen, but the other first saw the light in this hapless country. I speak true, do I not? answer me, lady!” she exclaimed, looking towards Madam Clough.
“Yes, indeed you do,” said the latter; “but you might have judged by our tongues that we were not Flemings.”