Dame Bell plied her needles vigorously, as if her temper had got down into her fingers. The visitor plunged into renewed conversation, chiefly turning upon that interesting episode, the encounter between Janes and his wife. At half-past nine, Mrs. Bell put down her knitting and rose from her seat. She was growing uneasy. "What can keep Rosaline? She never stays out so late as this, let Granny Sandon want her ever so. I'll take a look out and see if I can see her." Unbolting and opening the door she admitted a flood of pale moonlight: pale, compared with the ruddier glow of the interior. Mrs. Bell peered out across the Bare Plain in the direction of Trennach; and Nancy Tomson, who was always ready for any divertisement, advanced and stretched her long neck over Dame Bell's shoulder. "It's a rare light night," she said. "But I don't see nobody coming, Mrs. Bell. They keeps to the Golden Shaaft." Feeling the air cold after the hot fire, Nancy Tomson withdrew indoors again. She was in no hurry to be gone. Her husband made one of the company at the Golden Shaft to-night, and this warm domicile was pleasanter than her own. Dame Bell was about to shut the door, when a faint sound caused her to look quickly out again, and advance somewhat farther than she did before. Leaning against the wall on the other side the window was a dark object: and, to Mrs. Bell's intense surprise, she discovered it to be Rosaline. Rosaline, in what appeared to be the very utmost abandonment of grief or of terror. Her hands were clasped, her face was bent down. Every laboured breath she took seemed to come forth with suppressed anguish. "Why, child, what on earth's the matter?" ejaculated the mother. "What are you staying there for?" The words quickly brought out Nancy Tomson. Her exclamations, when she saw Rosaline, might almost have been heard at Trennach. Rosaline's moans subsided into silence. She slowly moved from the wall, and they helped her indoors. Her face was white as that of the dead, and appeared to have a nameless horror in it. She sat down on the first chair she came to, put her arms on the table, and her head upon them, so that her countenance was hidden. The two women, closing the front-door, stood gazing at her with the most intense curiosity. "She heve been frighted," whispered Nancy Tomson. And it did indeed look like it. Mrs. Bell, however, negatived the suggestion. "Frighted! What is there to frighten her? What's the matter, Rosaline?" she continued, somewhat sharply. "Be you struck mooney, child?" Nancy Tomson was one who liked her own opinion, and held to the fright. She advanced a step or two nearer Rosaline, dropping her voice to a low key. "Heve you seen anything o' Dan Sandon? Maybe hes ghost shawed itself to you as you come by the Bottomless Shaaft?" The words seemed to affect Rosaline so strongly that the table, not a very substantial one, vibrated beneath her weight.