ound to do), he must have seen almost a harder frost;
and perhaps it put an end to him; for then he would be some
fourscore years old. But tradition makes him 'keep yatt,'
as he says, up to fivescore years.--ED.

However, at present there was no frost, although for a fortnight
threatening; and I was too young to know the meaning of the way the dead
leaves hung, and the worm-casts prickling like women's combs, and
the leaden tone upon everything, and the dead weight of the sky. Will
Watcombe, the old man at Lynmouth, who had been half over the world
almost, and who talked so much of the Gulf-stream, had (as I afterwards
called to mind) foretold a very bitter winter this year. But no one
would listen to him because there were not so many hips and haws as
usual; whereas we have all learned from our grandfathers that Providence
never sends very hard winters, without having furnished a large supply
of berries for the birds to feed upon.

It was lucky for me, while I waited here, that our very best sheep-dog,
old Watch, had chosen to accompany me that day. For otherwise I must
have had no dinner, being unpersuaded, even by that, to quit my survey
of the valley. However, by aid of poor Watch, I contrived to obtain a
supply of food; for I sent him home with a note to Annie fastened upon
his chest; and in less than an hour back he came, proud enough to wag
his tail off, with his tongue hanging out from the speed of his journey,
and a large lump of bread and of bacon fastened in a napkin around his
neck. I had not told my sister, of course, what was toward; for why
should I make her anxious?

When it grew towards dark, I was just beginning to prepare for my
circuit around the hills; but suddenly Watch gave a long low growl; I
kept myself close as possible, and ordered the dog to be silent, and
presently saw a short figure approaching from a thickly-wooded hollow on
the left side of my hiding-place. It was the same figure I had seen once
before in the moonlight, at Plover's Barrows; and proved, to my great
delight, to be the little maid Gwenny Carfax. She started a moment, at
seeing me, but more with surprise than fear; and then she laid both her
hands upon mine, as if she had known me for twenty years.

'Young man,' she said, 'you must come with me. I was gwain' all the
way to fetch thee. Old man be dying; and her can't die, or at least her
won't, without first considering thee.'

'Considering me!' I cried; '