"I put in mixtures! Go to, white witch that thou art. Did I not see thee cast an evil eye on the drinking water, and turn it black? Look here," she cried, seizing the cup, throwing out its contents, running to the spring, and returning with it full of clear fluid, "the water be bright and sweet. Nay, nay; thou shalt not touch it," she cried, as Mace stretched out her hand to take the cup--"I will have no more of thy juggling tricks here. Out upon thee, witch--witch, who triest to win decent maidens' lovers to thy side. When the time comes that justice overtakes thee for thy wicked enchantments, my voice shall be raised to tell of all I know. Go!--Away with thee!--Witch, witch!" She stood waving her hands and stick at her who had brought her help, and a malignant look of spite and suppressed glee overspread her face, as she laughingly hugged herself upon the clever way in which she had turned the tables upon her accuser. The girl's lips parted to speak; but finding her adversary become more voluble and ready, Mace shrank away, staggered by the words of the old woman, who followed her to the door, and stood menacing her and shrieking threats as she hurried away with the words "witch, witch," ringing in her ears. There was no lack of common-sense in the founder's daughter, but for the moment she was startled by Mother Goodhugh's words. No more superstitious than the educated people of her days, a faint belief in the sin of witchcraft lingered in her mind; and she knew by rumour of the terrible fate that had been reserved for women accused of such dealings. For, from time to time, account of fiery executions had reached the remote hamlet, and she shuddered as these memories came back. To be accused of witchcraft by some malignant enemy meant placing the accused in a position wherein nothing she said would be believed; and, as she hurried homewards, Mace's face was pale with anxiety and dread. This soon passed off, though, and she laughed at her childish terrors. "Poor old thing, she is half mad," thought Mace; and even then she began to think about the cup; coming rapidly to the right conclusion that Mother Goodhugh had placed some one or another of her decoctions in the water. "I'll go there no more," she said; "the old woman is dangerous, and to try to ward off her wishes by kindly acts seems to make things worse." She was, in spite of the encounter, light-hearted and glad; for though the accusation against Gil troubled her, still she knew that he was innocent, and had hoped by propitiating Mother Goodhugh to get her in time to withdraw her words. That adventure had failed; but there was a change at home that made her heart leap. Sir Mark had gone, and an incubus seemed to have been removed from her heart as she felt that the old happy days would come again; and, laughing off the scene with Mother Goodhugh, she hastened on through the pleasant, sunlit glade, where the birds hardly fled at her approach.