hteous and the wicked, had more to do with it than
the White Witch."

"Eh, Wigan, but them's downright wicked words! You'd never go to say as
God Almighty takes note o' hens, and cows, and such like?"

"Who does, then? How come we to have any eggs and milk?"

"Why, man, that's natur'."

"I heard a man on Bensington Green, one day last year," answered Wigan,
"talking of such things; and he said that `nature' was only a fool's
word for God. And said I to myself, That's reason."

Wigan, being one of that very rare class who think for themselves, was
not comprehended by his commissionary tours, had been to this man's
heart as a match to tinder.

"Ay, and he said a deal more too: but it wouldn't be much use telling
you. There--that's enough. She'll sleep quiet there. I'll just go
round by her hut, and see if her cat's there--no need to leave the
creature to starve."

"Eh, Wigan, you'd never take that thing into your house? It's her
familiar, don't you know? They always be, them black cats--they're
worse than the witches themselves."

"Specially when they aren't black, like this? I tell you, she wasn't a
witch; and as to the cat, thou foolish man, it's nought more nor less
than a cat. I'll take it home to Brichtiva my wife,--she's not so
white-livered as thou."

"Eh, Wigan, you'll be sorry one o' these days!"

"I'm as sorry now as I can be, that I didn't come up sooner: and I don't
look to be sorry for aught else."

Wigan went off to the empty hut. But all his coaxing calls of "Puss,
puss!" proved vain. Gib was in Ermine's arms; and Ermine was travelling
towards London in a heavy carrier's waggon, with Stephen on horseback
alongside. He gave up the search at last, and went home; charging
Brichtiva that if Gib should make a call on her, she was to be careful
to extend to him an amount of hospitality which would induce him to
remain.

But Gib was never seen in the neighbourhood of Bensington again.

"What wonder?" said Erenbald. "The thing was no cat--it was a foul
fiend; and having been released from the service of its earthly
mistress, had returned as a matter of course to Satan its master."

This conclusion was so patent to every one of his neighbours that nobody
dreamed of questioning it. Morally speaking, there is no blindness so
hopelessly incurable as that of the man who is determined to keep his
eyes shut. Only the Great Physician can heal such a case as this, and
He has often to do it