Hearing the Ancient chuckle gleefully, I glanced up to find him nodding and winking to Black George, who stood with folded arms and bent head, watching us from beneath his brows, and, as his eyes met mine, I thought they gleamed strangely in the firelight. "Come, Prue," said the Ancient, bustling forward, "table's ready—let's sit down an' eat—faintin' an' famishin' away, I be!" So we presently sat down, all three of us, while Prudence carved and supplied our wants, as only Prudence could. And after a while, our hunger being appeased, I took out my pipe, as did the Ancient and George theirs likewise, and together we filled them, slowly and carefully, as pipes should be filled, while Prudence folded a long, paper spill wherewith to light them, the which she proceeded to do, beginning at her grandfather's churchwarden. Now, while she was lighting mine, Black George suddenly rose, and, crossing to the forge, took thence a glowing coal with the tongs, thus doing the office for himself. All at once I saw Prue's hand was trembling, and the spill was dropped or ever my tobacco was well alight; then she turned swiftly away, and began replacing the plates and knives and forks in her basket. "Be you'm a-goin', Prue?" inquired the Ancient mumblingly, for his pipe was in full blast. "Yes, gran'fer." "Then tell Simon as I'll be along in 'arf an hour or so, will 'ee, lass?" "Yes, gran'fer!" Always with her back to us. "Then kiss ye old grandfeyther as loves 'ee, an' means for to see 'ee well bestowed, an' wed, one o' these fine days!" Prudence stooped and pressed her fresh, red lips to his wrinkled old cheek and, catching up her basket, turned to the door, yet not so quickly but that I had caught the gleam of tears beneath her lashes. Black George half rose from his seat, and stretched out his hand towards her burden, then sat down again as, with a hasty "Good night," she vanished through the yawning doorway. And, sitting there, we listened to her quick, light footstep cross the road to "The Bull." "She'll make some man a fine wife, some day!" exclaimed the Ancient, blowing out a cloud of smoke, "ay, she'll mak' some man as fine a wife as ever was, some day." "You speak my very thought, Ancient," said I, "she will indeed; what do you think, George?" But George's answer was to choke suddenly, and, thereafter, to fall a-coughing. "Smoke go t' wrong way, Jarge?" inquired the Ancient, fixing him with his bright eye. "Ay," nodded George. "Ha!" said the old man, and we smoked for a time in silence. "So 'andsome as a picter she be!" said the Ancient suddenly. "She is fairer than any picture," said I impulsively, "and what is better still, her nature is as sweet and beautiful as her face!" "'Ow do 'ee know that?" said George, turning sharply upon me. "My eyes and ears tell me so, as yours surely must have done long ago," I answered. "Ye do think as she be a purty lass, then, Peter?" inquired the Ancient.