spake?"

"An evil spirit would scarcely have given such holy counsel," gravely
responded Haldane.

"Never expected to hear angels speak in a witch's hut!" said the
astonished sumner. "Pray you, my Lord Angel--or my Lady Angela, if so
be--for your holy intercession for a poor sinner."

"Better shalt thou have," replied the voice, "if thou wilt humbly rest
thy trust on Christ our Lord, and seek His intercession."

"You see well," added Haldane, "that I am no evil thing, else would good
spirits not visit me."

The humbled sumner laid two silver pennies in her hand, and left the hut
with some new ideas in his head.

"Well, my dear, you've a brave heart!" said Haldane, when the sound of
his footsteps had died away. "I marvel you dared speak. It is well he
took you for an angel; but suppose he had not, and had come round the
screen to see? When I told you the worst outlaw in the forest would not
dare to look in on you, I was not speaking of _them_. They stick at
nothing, commonly."

"If he had," said Ermine quietly, "the Lord would have known how to
protect me. Was I to leave a troubled soul with the blessed truth
untold, because harm to my earthly life might arise thereby?"

"But, my dear, you don't think he'll be the better?"

"If he be not, the guilt will not rest on my head."

The dark deepened, and the visitors seemed to have done coming. Haldane
cooked a rabbit for supper for herself and Ermine, not forgetting Gib.
She had bolted the door for the night, and was fastening the wooden
shutter which served for a window, when a single tap on the door
announced a late applicant for her services. Haldane opened the tiny
wicket, which enabled her to speak without further unbarring when she
found it convenient.

"Folks should come in the day," she said.

"Didn't dare!" answered a low whisper, apparently in the voice of a
young man. "Can you find lost things?"

"That depends on the planets," replied Haldane mysteriously.

"But can't you rule the planets?"

"No; they rule me, and you too. However, come within, and I will see
what I can do for you."

Unbarring the door, she admitted a muffled man, whose face was almost
covered by a woollen kerchief evidently arranged for that purpose.

"What have you lost?" asked the Wise Woman.

"The one I loved best," was the unexpected answer.

"Man, woman, or child?"

"A maiden, who went forth the morrow of Saint Lucian, by the East Gate
of Oxford, on the Dor