held stones and other machinery of the mill now
removed, the home of spiders and half-starved rats, that a lean black
cat hunted continually. Across its ceiling ran great beams, whereof the
interlacing ends, among which sharp draughts whistled, lost themselves
in gloom, while, with an endless and exasperating sound, as of a knuckle
upon a board, the water dripped from the leaky roof.

In the round living-chamber below Ramiro was alone. No lamp had been
lit, but the glow from the great turf fire played upon his face as he
sat there, watching, waiting, and scheming in the chair of black oak.
Presently a noise from without caught his quick ear, and calling to the
serving woman to light the lamp, he went to the door, opened it, and saw
a lantern floating towards him through the thick steam of falling rain.
Another minute and the bearer of the lantern, Hague Simon, arrived,
followed by two other men.

"Here he is," said Simon, nodding at the figure behind him, a short
round figure wrapped in a thick frieze cloak, from which water ran. "The
other is the head boatman."

"Good," said Ramiro. "Tell him and his companions to wait in the shed
without, where liquor will be sent to them; they may be wanted later
on."

Then followed talk and oaths, and at length the man retreated grumbling.

"Enter, Father Thomas," said Ramiro; "you have had a wet journey, I
fear. Enter and give us your blessing."

Before he answered the priest threw off his dripping, hooded cape of
Frisian cloth, revealing a coarse, wicked face, red and blear-eyed from
intemperance.

"My blessing?" he said in a raucous voice. "Here it is, Senor Ramiro,
or whatever you call yourself now. Curse you all for bringing out a holy
priest upon one of your devil's errands in weather which is only fit
for a bald-headed coot to travel through. There is going to be a flood;
already the water is running over the banks of the dam, and it gathers
every moment as the snow melts. I tell you there is going to be such a
flood as we have not seen for years."

"The more reason, Father, for getting through this little business
quickly; but first you will wish for something to drink."

Father Thomas nodded, and Ramiro filling a small mug with brandy, gave
it to him. He gulped it off.

"Another," he said. "Don't be afraid. A chosen vessel should also be a
seasoned vessel; at any rate this one is. Ah! that's better. Now then,
what's the exact job?"

Ramiro took him apart and t