’Ah!’ she continued, without answering his question. ’There be other things the Hand of Glory can do. It will go if you send it to some person—bolts and locks will not keep it out, and it will catch the end of the bedclothes, and scramble up, and pass itself over the eyes of the sleeper, and make him sleep like a dead man, and it will dive under the clothes and lay its fingers on the heart; then there will come aches and spasms there, or it will creep down the thighs and pinch and pat, and that brings rheumatic pains. I’ve heard of one hand thus sent as went down under the bedclothes to the bottom of the sleeper’s foot, and there it closed up all the fingers but one, and with that it bored and bored, working itself about like a gimblet, and then gangrene set in, and the man touched thus was dead in three days.’ ’It is a mighty fortunate thing you’ve not the hand of old Wellon,’ growled Charles. ’I have got it,’ answered Mrs. Veale. Charles looked at her with staring eyes. ’You shall see it,’ she said. ’I do not want to. I will not!’ he exclaimed, shuddering. ’Wellon’s hand will fetch you a hundred pounds, and we will not ask whence it comes,’ said Mrs. Veale. ’I will not have it, I will not touch it!’ He spoke in a hoarse, horrified whisper. ’You shall come with me, and I will show you where I keep it, and perhaps you will find the hand closed; and when I say, Hand of Glory! open! Hand of Glory! give up! then you will see the fingers unclose, and the glittering gold coins will be in the brown palm.’ ’I will not touch them.’ ’No harm in your looking at them. Come with me.’ She stood before him with her firm mouth set, and her blinking eyes on him. He tried to resist. He settled himself more comfortably into his seat. But his efforts to oppose her will were in vain. He uttered a curse, drew his hands out of his pocket, put his hat on his head. ’Go on,’ he said surlily; ’but I tell y’ I won’t go without the lantern. Where is it?’ ’In Wellon’s Cairn.’ ’I will not go,’ said Charles, drawing back, and all colour leaving his cheek. ’Then I’ll send the hand after you. Come.’ ’I’ll take the lantern.’ ’As you like, but hide the light till we get to the hill. There it don’t matter if folks see a flame dancing about the mound. They will keep their distance—Come on, after me.’ *CHAPTER XXV.* *THE HARE HUNT.* Directly Mrs. Veale, followed by Charles, came outside the house the former turned and said, with a chuckle, ’You want a lantern, do y’, a summer night such as this?’ The sky was full of twilight, every thorn tree and holly bush was visible on the hedges, every pebble in the yard. ’I’m not going to Wellon’s Cairn without,’ said Luxmore, sulkily. ’I don’t want to go at all; and I won’t go _there_ without light.’ ’Very well. I will wait at the gate for you.’