VASHTI. And in the night when I was laid down, against the windowpane it fled a three times. A three time it fled and did beat the pane as though ’twould get in. And I up and did open the window. And the air it ran past I, and ’twas black, with naught upon it but the smell of a shroud. So I knowed. DORRY. What did you know, Granny? VASHTI. [_Leaning forward and warming her hands at the fire_, _speaking as though to herself_.] Summat lost—summat lost, and what was trying to get safe away. DORRY. Safe away? From what, Granny? VASHTI. And there be one what walks abroad in the night time, what holds in the hand of him a stick, greater nor this staff what I holds here, and the knife to it be as long again by twice. DORRY. O, Granny, I’ll be a-feared to go across the garden after dark, I shall. JANE. What do you want to go and put that there into the child’s head for? I’d like for Steve to hear you talking of such stuff. VASHTI. I sat me down at the table, but the victuals was as sand in the mouth, and the drink did put but coldness within I. And when the door was closed, ’twas as if one did come running round the house and did beat upon it for to be let in. Then I did go for to open it, but the place outside was full of emptiness, and ’twas they old carrion crows what did talk to I out of the storm. JANE. How you do go on, to be sure! Why don’t you speak of summat what’s got some sense to it? Come, don’t you know as Steve, his wedding day, ’tis to-morrow as ever is. DORRY. ’Tis the New Year, too, Granny, as well as Dad’s marriage. VASHTI. [_Suddenly_.] Be this house made ready for a-marrying, then? DORRY. Why, of course it be, Granny. Don’t you see how ’tis cleaned and the new net curtains in the windows, and the bit of drugget ’gainst the door where the old one always tripped me up? VASHTI. I see naught but what ’tis more like a burial here. So ’tis. And ’tis a burial as I’ve carried in my heart as I comed down from the hills. DORRY. [_Looking out of the window_.] Granny, you’ll be forced to bide the night along of we, ’cause the snow be falling thick, and ’twill be likely as not as you’ll lose your way if you start for to go home again when ’tis snowing. JANE. Th’ old thing may as well bide the night now she be come. Hark you, Vashti, ’twill save you the journey down to-morrow like, if you bides the night, and the chimney corner is all as you ever wants. VASHTI. And what should I be journeying down to-morrow for, Jane Browning? DORRY. Why, Granny, ’tis Dad’s wedding day to-morrow, and ’tis a white frock with lace to it as I’m going to wear, and beads what Miss Sims gived me, and the shoes what was new except for being worn to church three times. Shall I fetch them all and show to you, Granny?