me now. Don't balk, aunty: you've
agreed to let me go: it would be the first time for you to break your
word."

After going into the front room once more to sprinkle herself with holy
water by the door, she started on her way. At the front door Christina
made another effort to detain her; but she strode off briskly with a
"God bless you!" Christina sent her good wishes after her, as she
watched her till she disappeared at the lower end of the garden.

She had chosen this road to avoid meeting any of the villagers. As she
walked through the target-field, the moon retired behind a large cloud;
so that, when she entered the forest which covered the descent to the
Neckar, it was almost "as dark as the inside of a cow." At first she
shuddered a little, and it seemed as if some one were treading closely
at her heels; but soon, finding that it was her own steps which she
heard, she picked up her courage, and skipped securely over the roots
which crossed the narrow wood-path. Emmerence "had good learning," and
did not believe in spooks or spirits; but in Firnut Pete she had the
most undoubting faith, for she knew how many people had been compelled
to work for him. By shrugging her shoulders from time to time she made
sure that the goblin was not seated upon them. She also believed in
Little Nick, who rolls himself before people's feet like a wild cat or
a log of wood, so that, when you undertake to sit down upon it, you
sink into slime.[14] She held the rosary wound firmly round her hand.

[Illustration: Emmerence knelt down and prayed fervently.]

In the glade where stands the fine old beech on which an image of the
Virgin is fastened, Emmerence knelt down, took the rosary into her
folded hands, and prayed fervently. The moon came forth full-cheeked,
and seemed to smile upon the praying one, who arose with fresh courage
and went on upon her journey.

The road now followed the course of the Neckar, on either bank of which
the black fir woods rose to the tops of the hills; while the valley
was, for the most part, so narrow as scarcely to hold more than the
road, the river, and, at times, a narrow strip of meadow. All was
silent, except that at times a bird chirped in its nest, as if to say,
"Ah, I feel for the poor birds outside." The dogs gave the alarm as she
passed the solitary farm-yards; the numerous mills rattled and thumped,
but the heart of the girl outbeat them all.

Emmerence, who had never been more than two ho