this a sign that they had had enough, and took
their spoons from them. As they scattered from the table Trenholme
perceived that, though their heads were covered, their feet were not.
Their whole costume consisted of a short blue cotton nightgown and the
little knitted cap.

When Turrif came in to say that the horse was ready, Trenholme made an
effort to present his thanks in saying good-bye to the mistress of the
house, but she did not seem to expect or take much notice of these
manners. As he went out of the door he looked back to see her bending
over the baby in the cradle, and he noticed for the first time that
above the cradle there was a little shrine fastened to the wall. It was
decked with a crucifix and paper flowers; above was a coloured picture
of the Virgin.

Trenholme, whose nerves were perhaps more susceptible than usual by
reason of the creature set at large by the opening of the coffin,
wondered that Turrif should leave his wife and children alone so
willingly, without any effort to bar the house and without objection on
their part. He knew there was no other house within half a mile, and the
darkness that lay on the flat land appeared to give room for a thousand
dangers.

He expressed this surprise to Turrif, who replied placidly that the good
saints took care of women and children--a reply which probably did not
go to prove the man's piety so much as the habitual peace of the
neighbourhood.

The vehicle to which Turrif had harnessed his pony was a small hay
cart--that is to say, a cart consisting of a platform on two wheels, and
a slight paling along each side intended to give some support to its
contents. It was much more lightly made than Saul's ox-cart. The wheels
went over the frozen ruts at a good pace, and the inmates were badly
jolted. Trenholme would rather have walked, but he had already observed
that the Canadian rustic never walked if he could possibly avoid it, and
he supposed there must be some reason for this in the nature of the
country. The jolting made talking disagreeable; indeed, when he
attempted conversation he found his words reminded him forcibly of times
when, in the nursery of his childhood, he had noticed the cries of baby
companions gradually grow less by reason of the rapid vibrations of the
nurse's knee. He kept silence therefore, and wondered whether Turrif or
the pony was guiding, so carelessly did they go forth into the darkness,
turning corners and avoiding ghostl