“I think that must be mainly your imagination, little one,” said Ian, toying with a tress of the wonderful hair. “No one who really knew you could believe it for a moment, and the other people do not really matter, do they?” Aline was a little bit consoled, but she said rather pitifully,--“All the same I wish we could find out the thief.” Then a fresh cloud seemed to gather and she went on; “Do you think that ‘Moll o’ the graves’ really can tell the future? She said that little Joan and I were going to die,--and what did she mean when she said that my path was through the fire?” Ian shivered and caught his breath as he thought of his vision, but he spoke as calmly as he could. “Oh, one cannot say; I am afraid that the awful old witch is trying to frighten the child to death.” “Yes,” said Audry, “they say that she and Joan’s mother, Sarah Moulton, had a terrible quarrel about something and many people think that it was old Moll who terrified her into her grave and that she wants for some reason to do the same with the child.” “The best thing,” said Ian, “is to take no notice of her. We must not give way to superstition. It is only by allowing her to frighten us that she can really do anything. What were you going to tell us about Joan, Aline?” “Well, she just seems to get weaker and weaker. I met Master Barlow to-day, who had come over again from Barnard Castle to see her and I said, ‘Of a truth, what is the matter with Joan?’ and he replied, ‘I do not know what is wrong with her, little maid; but I fear she has no chance in that abode.’ “So I feared greatly and asked him what might be done and I told him what Master Richard had said about sending her to Barnard Castle. That, he said, was good, but he would suggest better. He knew a very learned physician in Durham and also a good woman who would house the child if Master Mowbray would be at the expense of sending her, it being a far cry, nigh upon forty mile. Yet he did not hold out much hope even then.” “Oh, I am sure father will do that,” said Audry, “and then you will see little Joan coming back well and strong. Come, what you want is a run in the fresh air.” “I want to go down to Janet Arnside’s again, so I will go now.” The children left the room and climbed the secret stair. On their way out they turned along beside the moat, which always had a certain fascination for Aline. There were now king-cups and bog myrtle growing on the outer bank, where the part of the wall had broken away, and sheltered from the wind on the south side, water lilies were floating in the dark water. It was a still, lovely day and the beautiful walls and windows of the old Hall were perfectly reflected in the wide expanse of the black mirror, where also could be seen the clear blue of the sky and the great cumulus-clouds. “I love this old moat,” said Aline.