ained decidedly upon Robin before he glided into the
dark pine forest.

Before doing this, the gipsy turned back and looked carefully
round; but Cuthbert was already crouching behind a bush, and
escaped observation. As soon as Robin had fairly disappeared, the
youth rose and ran quickly after him, and soon caught glimpses of
the tall, stooping figure wending its way amongst the ruddy pine
stems, now dyed golden and crimson in the glow of the bright
sunset.

On and on he went in the fading light, and on and on went Cuthbert
in steady pursuit. This part of the forest was strange to the
youth, but it was familiar enough to the gipsy. From the mechanical
way in which he chose his track, and the direct certainty with
which he walked, it was plain that he knew every inch of the road,
and could have found the path by night as well as by day.

"Sure it must lead to the haunted dell," thought Cuthbert, as the
gloom deepened around him and the wood grew denser and denser. The
pines began to be mingled with other trees. The undergrowth was
thicker and more tangled. It was not always easy for Cuthbert to
force his way along. He paused sometimes in fear lest his steps and
the cracking of the boughs should be heard by the man in advance of
him.

On and on they went, and now the track became more distinct, and it
led downwards. An owl in a tree overhead hooted as Cuthbert passed
by, and something of a cold shiver ran through the young man's
frame; he stumbled over the outspread root of a gnarled old oak,
and fell, making more noise than he liked.

The owl flew away, hooting ominously as it seemed to his strained
nerves, and the hooting was answered as from the very heart of the
dell, if dell it was, mingled with many other strange and fierce
sounds. Cuthbert rose to his feet and crept forward with a beating
heart, and as he did so he heard a shout of demoniacal laughter
which chilled the very blood in his veins, and seemed to raise the
hair upon his head, so unearthly was the sound.

But making the sign of the cross upon his brow, and striving to
keep his presence of mind and his courage unimpaired by ghostly
terrors, Cuthbert still pursued his way downwards into this dim,
strange place. He felt more and more certain that this was the
pixies' dell of which the verses spoke--the dell wherein some deed
of darkness had been committed that caused it to be shunned of all;
and it needed all his native stoutness of heart to enable h