e that once or twice she
had misused her talents--but who would not have done the same in her
place? On a day like this she would be full of power; it would have
been wise to consult her.

The two outside kept to the path that ran along the edge of the
steep cliff, hollowed out in many places by the sea. Beneath them
thundered the surf, water and air and sand in one yellow ferment,
and over it seagulls and other sea birds, shrieking and whipping the
air with their wings. When a wave broke they would swoop down and
come up again with food in their beaks--some fish left stunned by
the waves to roll about in the foam.

It seemed foolish of the two keeping just inside the edge of the
cliff, against which the storm was throwing itself with all its
might, to fall down well inland. The old woman and the child clung
to each other, gasping for breath.

At one place the path went through a thicket of thorns, bent inland
by the strong sea wind, and here they took shelter from the storm to
regain their breath. Ditte whimpered, she was tired and hungry.

"Be a big girl," said the old one, "we'll soon be home now." She
drew the child towards her under the shawl, with shaking hands
brushing the snow from her hair, and blowing her frozen fingers.
"Ay, just big," she said encouragingly, "and you'll get cakes and
nice hot coffee when we get home. I've the coffee beans in the
bag--ah, just smell!"

Granny opened the bag, which she had fastened round her waist
underneath her shawl. Into it went all that she was given, food and
other odds and ends.

The little one poked her nose down into the bag, but was not
comforted at once.

"We've nothing to warm it with," said she sulkily.

"And haven't we then? Granny was on the beach last night, and saw
the old boat, she did. But Ditte was in the land of Nod, and never
knew."

"Is there more firewood?"

"Hush, child, the coastguard might hear us. He's long ears--and the
Magistrate pays him for keeping poor folks from getting warm. That's
why he himself takes all that's washed ashore."

"But you're not frightened of him, Granny, you're a witch and can
send him away."

"Ay, ay, of course Granny can--and more too, if he doesn't behave.
She'll strike him down with rheumatism, so that he can't move, and
have to send for wise Maren to rub his back. Ah me, old Granny's
legs are full of water, and aches and pains in every limb; a horrid
witch they call her, ay--and a thieving woman too! Bu