ees
made the place dark in spite of the moon, which hung low in the sky
and shone between the trees in long silvery beams; and the tangled
path which once had led to the forest well had been long overgrown
with a mass of bramble and underwood, through which it was hard to
force a way.

But Cuthbert cautiously proceeded, listening intently for any
sounds of life to indicate the presence of Long Robin, the only
being likely to be near at such an hour; but all appeared to be
intensely still, and presently he commenced his cautious descent
into the dell itself, and at last stood beside the old stone wall
that guarded the mouth of the well.

Cuthbert had heard something of that well since he had been at his
uncle's house. Some of the old servants at the Chase knew the
forest well, and he had been told the story of the pixies' dell:
how it had once been a noted spot in the forest, and how travellers
turned aside to drink the waters, which were not only fresh and
clear and cold, even on the most sultry summer's day, but were
reported to possess healing properties, especially if taken at
certain hours of the night and in certain phases of the moon. Long
ago there had been a monastery near the well, and the monks had
dispensed the waters to the applicants who came. But the monastery
had fallen into ruins and had disappeared, and after that the
pixies were given the credit of the healing waters. People came to
drink them, though less frequently than before; and as the place
grew more lonely and deserted, rumours began to float about that
the pixies were inimical to man, and that the waters no longer
possessed their old power. Later on still, a more terrible thing
was discovered: it was said that it was death to approach that dell
and drink the waters. Men's bones had been found in great numbers
close about that spot, and it was plain that they must belong to
the unhappy wights who, disregarding cautions, had ventured to the
place, and had died before they could get away from thence.

After that, as may well be guessed, no sick folks had cared to
trouble the dell again. Travellers made a wide circuit to avoid it,
and it was held to be the place of most evil repute in the forest.

All this story was well understood by Cuthbert, who felt no fear of
the spot, only a little natural awe as he recollected the deed that
had once been done there. The moon was going down as he looked
about him; the dark hour before morning was about