‘Only that th’ congrygation there was vary poor too, and it was a door as they were in want of,—just like i’ Lunds they couldna get a bell. So, when service was o’er, they used to stick a big thorn in th’ doorway, to fill it up; but shape’ (the sheep) ‘used to get in in t’ winter weather, and make a shelter of it; and they had to be cleared out regular, ivery Sunda’—that’s all, miss,’ said William, exhausted with his two prolonged narrative efforts, and falling into his place behind again. Eleanor rode on, smiling to herself at the picture of the man who shook a tin can full of stones, and cried ‘boll-loll’ from the top of the church to summon the congregation. He must have had lusty lungs, she thought, that Yorkshire sexton. Cotherstone was safely reached about three o’clock, and Eleanor must ride down to the river, and see where Balder emptied his waters into Tees, and repeat to herself— ‘Then Balder, one bleak garth was thine; And one sweet brooklet’s silver line.’ The ‘sweet brooklet’ was just then rushing onwards, muddy and swollen, in anything but a silver line. Eleanor turned back, and finding that William’s knowledge of the country here became rather misty, made inquiries in the village as to the nearest way to ‘Catcastle Crag.’ Visible astonishment arose upon the countenance of the rustic whom she addressed—an elderly labourer, who made answer, after the wary manner of the English of the north— ‘It’s a vary rough rooäd to Catcastle.’ ‘Is it? Well, would you tell me the nearest way?’ ‘Your horse won’t go within half a mile of the crag.’ ‘Well, I would like to know how you get within half a mile of the crag, if you will please to tell me the nearest way.’ ‘Nearest rooäd is o’er yonder,’ was the reply, accompanied by a sweep of a long and stalwart arm, which sweep might embrace some fifteen or twenty miles of country. Eleanor laughed, and after some difficulty induced her informant so far to commit himself as to mention one or two roads by name, which thing he did very reluctantly; but she gathered from what he said that she had ‘three miles and a piece’ to ride, not continuing on the same road, but always keeping to the left whenever cross roads came, and that by doing this she would arrive as near Catcastle Crag as her horse would take her; while by skirting round it, still to the left, she would come to a road leading to Deepdale, and thence home. ‘But,’ observed her interlocutor, with a look of tolerant pity, ‘I think it’s something of a fool’s errand, of a day like this. Wind’s changing, and we’ll have frost before midnight.’ Eleanor thanked him, and set off cheerily, thinking with a smile that the tea would have to wait till after five o’clock, and that she hoped Barlow would not be worrying his old head about her, or sending in all directions to meet her.