icient for me."

Lady Eleanor hesitated for a moment, and then said that he must come
and see the bullfinch. So Elsie produced the bird with great pride,
and Colonel George recognised one tune as "The British Grenadiers" and
the other as part of "Lillibulero," the famous marching song which was
so popular with King William's soldiers. "Strange," he said, "that
both tunes should be marching tunes. What can it mean?"

But before they had done with the bullfinch, a frightened woman came
hurrying up with the news that old Sally Dart was taken bad. She had
got up as usual and begun to lay the fire, but the neighbours seeing no
more of her had entered the cottage and found her lying on the floor,
speechless, with one side of her face pulled down. Lady Eleanor at
once sent for the doctor, and walked down with Colonel George to see
what she could do; but as they came back they found that there was
fresh excitement in another quarter. The village preacher's cow had
also been taken bad; her calf was dead already, and it was doubtful if
the cow could be saved. Finally, Mrs. Mugford was seen weeping over
the ghastly heads of six or eight fowls which lay in a heap before her
door. The said fowls, so Colonel George ascertained from her, had
strayed away in the previous night, which she had never known them do
before, and the keeper had found the heads scattered about the wood not
far from an earth where an old vixen was known to have brought up a
litter of cubs. What could have possessed the fowls Mrs. Mugford
couldn't say, for her old stag (and she selected the head of a
venerable cock from the heap as she spoke, to give point to her remark)
was so sensible as a Christian almost.

"What a day of misfortunes!" said Lady Eleanor, as they left the
disconsolate woman.

"Yes, indeed," said Colonel George, "I only hope that they may end
here. Listen!" And as he spoke the voice of Mrs. Fry rose high from
the garden above.

"Yes," she said, "the mazed man was up to the park yesterday. The
young gentleman and the little lady seed mun; and the witch wasn't far
away, you may depend. She's a-witched mun all; that's what it is; and
now maybe," she added with a triumphant glance at the weeping Mrs.
Mugford, "there's some as won't be so sartain as they was as to the
doings of witches."

Lady Eleanor gave a little laugh, but turned suddenly grave, and asked
Colonel George anxiously, "Do you think that they really believe it?"