the pathway round the headland. Bride was familiar from childhood with this path, and had traversed it too often and too freely to feel the smallest fear now. The moonlight was clear and intense. She knew every foot of the way, and even the hound who followed closely in her wake was too well used to the precarious ledge to express any uneasiness when his mistress led the way down to it. With rapid and fearless precision Bride made the transit round the rocky headland, and saw the waters of the bay lying still and calm at her feet. The ledge of rock sloped rapidly down on this side of the bluff, and very quickly Bride found herself quite close to the hamlet, which lay like a sleeping thing beneath the sheltering crags. Her heart gave a bound of relief. All was still as yet. Perhaps the men had not realised what was passing, and were all at home and asleep. She paused a moment, reconnoitring, wondering whether she would do better to go forward or back. But the sight of a light shining steadily in one window, and a shadow passing to and fro within the room it lighted, convinced her that something was astir, and decided her to go on. She knew the cottage well. It was that of the old woman who went by the name of Mother Clat. Bride knew that if any mischief were afoot, she would be the first to know it; nay, it was like enough it would be hatched and discussed beneath her very roof. Even now the worst characters of the place, the boldest of the men, and those most bent on riot and plunder, might be gathered together there; but the knowledge of this probability did no deter Bride, who had all the resolute fearlessness of her race and temperament; and she went composedly forward and knocked at the outer door. “Coom in wi’ ye,” answered a familiar voice, and Bride lifted the latch and entered. A fire of peat turves glowed on the open hearth, over which a pot was hanging; but the room was empty, save for the old woman herself, who gazed in unaffected amaze at the apparition of the slim black-robed girl with her white face and shining eyes. “Loramassy! ef it ban’t t’ Laady Bride hersen! Mercy on us! What’s brought she doon heer at such a time! My pretty laady, you ’a no beznez out o’ your bed sech a time as this. You shudden ’ave abin an’ gone vor tu leave t’ castle to-night!” “Why not?” asked Bride, coming forward towards the fire, and looking full at the woman, who shrank slightly under the penetrating gaze. “What is going on abroad to-night, Mother Clat? I know that something is?” “Fegs! I’m thinking the dowl himsel’s abroad these days,” answered the woman uneasily. “The bwoys are that chuck vull o’ mischief. Theer’s no holdin’ un when ’e gets un into ’is maw. It du no manner o’ gude to clapper-claw un. ’T on’y maakes un zo itemy’s a bear wi’ a zore yed.” “Where are the men?” asked Bride quietly. The woman eyed the girl uneasily and not without suspicion, but the expression of her face seemed to reassure her.