There was an hour every evening which made up, and more than made up, for all the weariness and trouble of the day, when Mistress Goel talked awhile with me, or sang to me. Our talk was mainly of the one engrossing subject, and there could be no quiet, private chat at such a time; but to see her and to hear her voice was enough to make me happy for the present. Luke made me somewhat uneasy by telling me that he had overheard conversation at the White Hart, and elsewhere, to the effect that Doctor and Mistress Goel had come over to Crowle "to charm the water." Dame Hind had had much to say of the certainty of their being in commerce with the devil, and some of her guests swore to put an end to the witches at the first opportunity. Although I did not think these threats very serious, and had perfect confidence in my own ability to protect my friends, being in high favour with the Crowle folk, I contrived to restrain them from going beyond the vicarage grounds, except when I could accompany them. Luke was exceedingly afraid, but as he had always a keen nose for scent of danger, his fears did not excite mine. On the third evening of my stay, Sheffield was announced. He met me without a trace of confusion. "Ha, Vavasour!" he said. "Give you joy of coming to life again." "Thanks--much thanks," I replied. "Coming to life again!" cried my aunt. "What do you mean, my lord?" "Has he told you nothing? When last I saw him, on the night of the thunderstorm, he was struck by lightning." "Struck by lightning!" my aunt echoed. "Yes; I overtook him on the road, and we got into some sort of quarrel, about what I don't remember, for, to confess the truth, I was too drunk. We were riding side by side, jabbering angrily, when I saw a ball of fire flashing down. It struck Vavasour, and he fell from his horse. I am ashamed to say that I was so dazed and terrified that I rode off as fast as I could, and left him to his fate." Being pressed to give my account, I said, "I did not see the flash which knocked me down, and I can tell you no more, except that I found myself in bed next morning, little the worse." My aunt gave me a scolding (with tears in her eyes) for my reticence, and was touchingly grateful to Sheffield for informing her of the peril I had been in. Doctor Goel's interest was in the meteor, and he asked so many questions about the size and shape and colour of it, the degree of its brightness, the length of time it was visible, and so forth, that Sheffield got himself into a coil of contradictions, and then excused them on the ground that he was very drunk at the time. "By Bacchus," said the doctor, "you must have been." One person kept silence, but her bright eyes were observant of Sheffield and me. Doctor Goel turned to me, and endeavoured to extract some account of my feelings, but I stuck to it that I could tell nothing more. Sheffield took himself off, declining my aunt's invitation to stay supper.