p with joy. Well, I knew what was happening--never mind how I
knew--and though I am so poor now, I travelled here to assist and give
my felicitations. Eleanor, too, she sends hers, though you guess of
what kind they are, for remember, as I told you long ago, speerits are
just as jealous as we women, because, you see, they were women before
they were speerits."

"Thank you," broke in Godfrey; "I am afraid I must be going."

"Oh! yes. You are in a great hurry, for now you have got the plum, my
Godfrey, have you not, and want to eat it? Well, I have a message for
you, suck it hard, for very, very soon you come to the stone, which you
know is sharp and cold with no taste, and must be thrown away. Oh!
something make me say this too; I know not what. Perhaps that stone
must be planted, not thrown away; yes, I think it must be planted, and
that it will grow into the most beautiful of plum trees in another
land."

She threw back her hood, showing her enormous forehead and flabby,
sunken face, which looked as though she had lived for years in a
cellar, and yet had about it an air of inspiration. "Yes," she went on,
"I see that tree white with blossom. I see it bending with the golden
fruit--thousands upon thousands of fruits. Oh! Godfrey, it is the Tree
of Life, and underneath it sit you and that lady who looks like a
queen, and whom you love so dear, and look into each other's eyes for
ever and for ever, because you see that tree immortal do not grow upon
the earth, my Godfrey."

The horrible old woman made him afraid, especially did her last words
make him afraid, because he who was experienced in such matters knew
that she had come with no intention of uttering them, that they had
burst from her lips in a sudden semi-trance such as overtakes her
sisterhood from time to time. He knew what that meant, that Death had
marked them, and that they were called elsewhere, he or Isobel, or both.

"I must be going," he repeated.

"Yes, yes, you must be going--you who are going so far. The hungry fish
must go after the bait, must it not, and oh! the hook it does not see.
But, my leetle big Godfrey, one moment. Your loving old Godmamma, she
tumble on the evil day ever since that cursed old Pasteur"--here her
pale face twisted and her eyes grew wicked--"let loose the law-dogs on
me. I want money, my godson. Here is an address," and she thrust a
piece of paper upon him.

He threw it down and stamped on it. In his pocket was a leathe