then I saw how mad poor Cissie was! You know
this stupid little cough of mine? It will disappear as soon as I go to
London. She was troubled about _that_, and about my being so thin, and
she told me Jerry had promised her, if she would bring him three silver
spoons, that he'd charm my cough away and make me plump--"flesh-up," she
said. I couldn't help laughing; but it was a terrible night! I had to
put Cissie into my own bed, and stroke her hand till she cried herself
to sleep. What else could I have done? When she woke, and I coughed--I
suppose I _can_ cough in my own room if I please--she said that she'd
killed me, and asked me to have her hanged at Lewes sooner than send her
to the uttermost ends of the earth away from me.'

'How awful! What did you do, Phil?'

'Do? I rode off at five in the morning to talk to Master Jerry, with a
new lash on my whip. Oh, I was _furious_! Witchmaster or no
witchmaster, I meant to----'

'Ah! what's a Witchmaster?'

'A master of witches, of course. _I_ don't believe there are witches;
but people say every village has a few, and Jerry was the master of all
ours at Marklake. He has been a smuggler, and a man-of-war's man, and
now he pretends to be a carpenter and joiner--he can make almost
anything--but he really is a white wizard. He cures people by herbs and
charms. He can cure them after Dr. Break has given them up, and that's
why Dr. Break hates him so. He used to make me toy carts, and charm off
my warts when I was a child.' Philadelphia spread out her hands with the
delicate shiny little nails. 'It isn't counted lucky to cross him. He
has his ways of getting even with you, they say. But _I_ wasn't afraid
of Jerry! I saw him working in his garden, and I leaned out of my saddle
and double-thonged him between the shoulders, over the hedge. Well, my
dear, for the first time since Dad gave him to me, my _Troubadour_ (I
wish you could see the sweet creature!) shied across the road, and I
spilled out into the hedge-top. _Most_ undignified! Jerry pulled me
through to his side and brushed the leaves off me. I was horribly
pricked, but I didn't care. "Now, Jerry," I said, "I'm going to take the
hide off you first, and send you to Lewes afterwards. You well know
why." "Oh!" he said, and he sat down among his bee-hives. "Then I reckon
you've come about old Cissie's business, my dear." "I reckon I just
about have," I said. "Stand away from these hives. I can't get at you
there." "That's why