t
ought to be up here on the pebbles."

Rose pointed to a strip of sand some forty yards nearer the sea, where
the boat lay.

"Oh, the lazy old villain! he's been round the rocks after pollock this
evening, and never taken the trouble to hale the boat up. I'll trounce
him for it when I get home. I only hope he's made her fast where she is,
that's all! He's more plague to me than ever my money will be. O deary
me!"

And the goodwife bustled down toward the boat, with Rose behind her.

"Iss, 'tis fast, sure enough: and the oars aboard too! Well, I never!
Oh, the lazy thief, to leave they here to be stole! I'll just sit in the
boat, dear, and watch mun, while you go down to the say; for you must
be all alone to yourself, you know, or you'll see nothing. There's the
looking-glass; now go, and dip your head three times, and mind you don't
look to land or sea before you've said the words, and looked upon the
glass. Now, be quick, it's just upon midnight."

And she coiled herself up in the boat, while Rose went faltering down
the strip of sand, some twenty yards farther, and there slipping off her
clothes, stood shivering and trembling for a moment before she entered
the sea.

She was between two walls of rock: that on her left hand, some twenty
feet high, hid her in deepest shade; that on her right, though much
lower, took the whole blaze of the midnight moon. Great festoons of live
and purple sea-weed hung from it, shading dark cracks and crevices, fit
haunts for all the goblins of the sea. On her left hand, the peaks of
the rock frowned down ghastly black; on her right hand, far aloft, the
downs slept bright and cold.

The breeze had died away; not even a roller broke the perfect stillness
of the cove. The gulls were all asleep upon the ledges. Over all was a
true autumn silence; a silence which may be heard. She stood awed, and
listened in hope of a sound which might tell her that any living thing
beside herself existed.

There was a faint bleat, as of a new-born lamb, high above her head;
she started and looked up. Then a wail from the cliffs, as of a child
in pain, answered by another from the opposite rocks. They were but the
passing snipe, and the otter calling to her brood; but to her they
were mysterious, supernatural goblins, come to answer to her call.
Nevertheless, they only quickened her expectation; and the witch had
told her not to fear them. If she performed the rite duly, nothing
would harm her: bu