'Was your old home a moor too?' asked Pat. 'Was that why you came to
live here?'
'You've guessed true,' replied the old woman. 'The moorland air is
native air to me, though this is a small place compared to where I was
born. It'll last my time, however, and yours too for that matter.
There'll be no railroads across it till the world's a good many years
older.'
'How do you know that?' asked Pat, with increasing curiosity. 'Do you
know things that are going to happen as well as things that have
happened? I wish you'd tell me how you find them out!'
'That I can't do,' was the reply. 'There's some as has the gift, though
how it comes they can't tell. It's like music, there's some as it speaks
to more than any words, and others to whom one note of it is like
another. And who can say why!' She ended, drawing a deep breath.
This talk was growing rather beyond Archie. He strolled into the little
kitchen again towards his brother, who was still seated by the fire,
where Nance had by this time settled herself opposite him. The flames
were still dancing gaily up the chimney. It almost seemed to Pat as if
they leaped and frolicked with increased life as the old woman held out
her hands to their pleasant warmth. But then of course Pat was very
fanciful.
'Tell us a story of the fairies and your great-grandmother,' said
Archie. 'What was it they did to help her?'
'There's not time for it now,' Nance replied. 'There's Master Justin and
Bob at the door,' and, sure enough, as Archie looked round the two
other boys made their appearance, though not the slightest sound of
their footsteps had been heard.
Certainly, old as she was, Nance's hearing seemed as quick as that of
the fairy Five-Ears.
'I don't want to keep you longer,' she went on, 'or your folk wouldn't
be best pleased with me. You must come another day, and bring the little
young lady, and old Nance will have some pretty stories ready for you.'
So the three boys bade her good evening and set off homewards, Bob
accompanying them a part of the way, talking eagerly to Justin about the
ferret scheme they were so full of.
Pat was very silent.
'What are you thinking about?' said Justin, when Bob had left them. 'You
seem half asleep, both you and Archie.'
'I was thinking about old Nance,' said Pat; 'she's awfully queer.'
'Yes,' Archie agreed. 'I like her and I don't like her. At least I felt
to-night as if I were a little afraid of her.'
'Rubbish,' said J
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