parsnips as her fee, she went away well satisfied. Next came a lame old
man, who received a bottle of lotion. The third applicant wanted a
charm to make herself beautiful. She was desired to wash herself once a
day in cold spring water, into which she was to put a pinch of a powder
with which the witch furnished her. While doing so, she was to say
three times over--

"Win in, white! Wend out, black!
Bring to me that I do lack.
Wend out, black! Win in, white!
Sweet and seemly, fair to sight."

The young lady, whose appearance might certainly have been improved by
due application of soap and water, departed repeating her charm
diligently, having left behind her as payment a brace of rabbits.

A short time elapsing, before any fresh rap occurred, Haldane went to
look at her patient.

"Well, my dear, and how are you getting on? Not asleep, I see. Look at
them rabbits! I can make you broth enough now. Get my living this way,
look you. And it's fair too, for I gives 'em good herbs. Fine cures I
make by times, I can tell you."

"I wondered what you gave the last," said Ermine.

The old woman set her arms akimbo and laughed.

"Eh, I get lots o' that sort. It's a good wash they want, both for
health and comeliness; and I make 'em take it that way. The powder's
nought--it's the wash does it, look you: but they'd never do it if I
told 'em so. Mum, now! there's another."

And dropping her voice to a whisper, Haldane emerged from the screen,
and desired the applicant to enter.

It was a very handsome young woman who came in, on whose face the
indulgence of evil passions--envy, jealousy, and anger--had left as
strong a mark as beauty. She crossed herself as she stepped over the
threshold.

"Have you a charm that will win hearts?" she asked.

"Whose heart do you desire to win?" was the reply.

"That of Wigan the son of Egglas."

"Has it strayed from you?"

"I have never had it. He loves Brichtiva, on the other side of the
wood, and he will not look on me. I hate her. I want to beguile his
heart away from her."

"What has she done to you?"

"Done!" cried the girl, with a flash of her eyes. "Done! She is fair
and sweet, and she has won Wigan's love. That is what she has done to
me."

"And you love Wigan?"

"I care nothing for Wigan. I hate Brichtiva. I want to be revenged on
her."

"I can do nothing for you," answered Haldane severely. "Revenge is the
business of the black w