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Mald the witch rose up from the hearth at last and faced the

betrothed She was terrible to view in her witless old age; her face

drawn into furrows and dull as lead, her bleared eyes eht

or conscience, and her thin hair scattered before them It was

despair, not sorrow, that Prosper read on such a face Now she peered

upon the hand-locked couple, now she parted the hair froer at them Her hand shook with palsy, but

she raised it up to bless them To Prosper she said-"Thou who art as pitiful as death, shalt have thy reward And it shall

be ave no promises, but with her crutch hobbled over the

floor to where she stood She put her hand into her daughter's bosom

and felt there; she seemed contented, for she said to her very

earnestly-"Keep thou what thou hast there till the hour of thy greatest peril

Then it shall not fail thee to whomsoever thou shalt show it"

Then she withdrew her hand and crawled back to crouch over the ashes

of the fire; nor did she open her lips again that night, nor take any

part or lot in what followed

"Call the priest, old ,

and to-morroe should be up before the sun"