She was hungry--her fears were somewhat allayed, and though rather disgusted at such coarse diet, ate and drank with some relish. Meanwhile, Herne the Hunter turned from the boy for something, and beheld her face for the first time. A water-gourd fell from his hands, his eyes dilated, and he crouched as he gazed like a panther before its unsuspecting prey. Every fibre of his frame quivered, and drops of cold sweat stood out upon his forehead. The boy saw with renewed fear this new phase of old Herne's dreaded idiosyncrasies. Mrs. Renfro at length raised her eyes and beheld him thus. Instantly he placed his hands before his face, and abruptly left the cavern. Alarmed at his appearance, she ran toward the boy, exclaiming: “What _can_ be the matter with him? Do you know him?” “I knows more of him 'n I wants ter,” replied the lad. “Oh, marm, that's old Herne, 'nd we uns air the fust ones ez hev be'n in hyar whar he stays. I ganny! I thort shore he'd hev yeaten ye up.” “Well, but who is he?” “Well, they do say ez the devil yowns him, not but what he air powerful 'ligyus. No one knows much 'bouten him, 'cep'n' he's all'ays a projeckin' eround the Dismal whar no one yelse wants ter be.” “Has he been here long?” “Yurs 'nd yurs, they say.” Tommy shook his head as though unable to measure the years during which Herne the Hunter had been acquiring his present unsavory reputation, but solved the riddle by exclaiming: “I reckon he hev all'ays be'n that-a-way.” An hour or more passed. Tommy fell asleep, while the lady sat musing by his side. She did not feel like sleeping, though much fatigued. Finally she heard a deep sigh behind her, and turning saw the object of her fears regarding her sombrely. The sight of her face appeared to shock him, for he turned half away as he said: “You have eaten the food that is the curse of life, in that it sustains it. Yet such we are. Sleep, therefore, for you have weary miles to go, ere you can reach the Swananoa.” There was an indescribable sadness in his tone that touched her, and she regarded him curiously. “Who are you,” she asked, “and why do you choose to live in such a place as this?” “Ask naught of me,” he said, with an energy he seemed unable to repress. “Ask rather of yourself who am I and how came I--thus.” He struck himself upon the breast, and without awaiting an answer again abruptly left the cave. She sat there wondering, trying to-weave into definite shape certain vague impressions suggested by his presence, until weariness overcame her and she slept.