"So ye said before, my blade. But the day will come when ye'll think of the poor gipsy-woman and her wise words." "Pshaw! You are trying to evade an answer. Who is Meg Merle?" "Hey? Speak up, young man; I'm deaf." "You obstinate old creature!" muttered Dan, savagely. "Who is Meg Merle?" "Not so loud, dearie--not so loud! I hates such hollering. The young gentlewoman is a child of the Gentile doctor." "I know that, but----" "Then why d'ye ask? You have forgot your manners." She was evidently determined to say nothing, yet Dan felt convinced from her manner that she knew more than he did about Merle and Meg. All else failing, he tried bribery, and slipped half a crown into her hand. "Tell me what secrets there are between Tinker Tim and the doctor." "Secrets, dearie! How should I know? Ask them as has secrets to tell 'em, not poor old Mother Jericho as hasn't. Bless ye for a good young man! This silver will bring ye luck." "I wish it would bring me information," said Dan, annoyed by the failure. "Good night, mother." "Are ye going, dearie? Good night. I send fine dreams along wi' ye." Dan was too angry to thank her for the gift, and, swinging his lantern, marched out of the tent, followed by Peter. The provoking old creature chuckled as he disappeared, and piled fresh wood on the fire. "If ye want riddles read, young man, you must pay in gold. Silver!" she said, with great contempt. "A curse go with him for a greedy Gentile!" CHAPTER XIV DAN'S SECRET. All that night it rained heavily, but Dan woke next morning to find that the clouds had dispersed. He was later than usual, and the sun was already over the rim of the sea. The dell was chilly and dripping with damp, while the ground was moist, and the pine trees were of a fresh green hue. In the silent hours the world had been thoroughly cleansed, and there was a new vigour in the air which caused the blood to speed more rapidly through his veins. The rain had drawn perfumes from the bosom of the earth, and the dell smelt like a garden of spices, and smoked with vapour like a sacrificial altar. Having taken the precaution to keep some wood in his caravan, he soon had a brisk fire burning, and forthwith proceeded to prepare breakfast. Owing to the lateness of the hour, and a timely remembrance that the heavy rains probably rendered the paths too slippery for Simon, he did not go down for his usual swim, but pottered about till noon, at which time he expected the vicar. To do honour to his guest, Dan made due preparation, and when the sun was up over the backbone of the ridge, found that there was nothing wanting save the presence of his visitor. His occupation being thus gone, he sat on a log beside his fire, and meditated over a pipe concerning the conversation of the previous night. There were many things to consider touching his position.