Audrey

The window shutter creaked ever so slightly, and some one looked out; then

the door opened, and a very old and wrinkled woman, with lines of cunning

about her mouth, laid her hand upon the girl's arm. "Who be ye?" she

whispered. "Did ye bring warning? I don't say, mind ye, that I can't make

a stream go dry,--maybe I can and maybe I can't,--but I didn't put a word

on the one yonder." She threw up her arms with a wailing cry. "But they

won't believe what a poor old soul says! Are they in an evil temper,

honey?"

"I don't know what you mean," said Audrey. "I have come a long way, and I

am hungry and tired. Give me a piece of bread, and let me stay with you

to-night."

The old woman moved aside, and the girl, entering a room that was mean and

poor enough, sat down upon a stool beside the fire. "If ye came by the

mill," demanded her hostess, with a suspicious eye, "why did ye not stop

there for bite and sup?"

"The men were all talking together," answered Audrey wearily. "They looked

so angry that I was afraid of them. I did stop at one house; but the woman

bade me begone, and the children threw stones at me and called me a

witch."

The crone stooped and stirred the fire; then from a cupboard brought forth

bread and a little red wine, and set them before the girl. "They called

you a witch, did they?" she mumbled as she went to and fro. "And the men

were talking and planning together?"

Audrey ate the bread and drank the wine; then, because she was so tired,

leaned her head against the table and fell half asleep. When she roused

herself, it was to find her withered hostess standing over her with a sly

and toothless smile. "I've been thinking," she whispered, "that since

you're here to mind the house, I'll just step out to a neighbor's about

some business I have in hand. You can stay by the fire, honey, and be warm

and comfortable. Maybe I'll not come back to-night."

Going to the window, she dropped a heavy bar across the shutter. "Ye'll

put the chain across the door when I'm out," she commanded. "There be

evil-disposed folk may want to win in." Coming back to the girl, she laid

a skinny hand upon her arm. Whether with palsy or with fright the hand

shook like a leaf, but Audrey, half asleep again, noticed little beyond

the fact that the fire warmed her, and that here at last was rest. "If

there should come a knocking and a calling, honey," whispered the witch,

"don't ye answer to it or unbar the door. Ye'll save time for me that way.

But if they win in, tell them I went to the northward."