"Well, at last she got down to the village, and entered a grocer's shop.

"'What can I get for you, ma'am?' said the grocer.

"'I want some nice ham, and some nice eggs, and some fresh b.u.t.ter. I have no money--but--but--but--'

"'Oh! get out of here with your "buts,"' cried the man. 'Who would trust the like of you, with your old age and your rags?'

"So he chased her away.

"Then the old woman crept away to the fishmonger's.

"'I want,' she said, 'some nice fresh salmon, and some nice prawns, and a delicious lobster. I've no money--but--but--but--'

"'Oh, get out of here!' cried the fishmonger, 'with your "buts." Who would trust you with your old age and your rags?'

"And he chased her down the street.

"Then she entered the butcher's.

"'Give me a tender joint of mutton,' she said. 'I've no money--but-- but--but--'

"'Oh!' cried the butcher, 'get out of here, with your "buts." Who would trust you with your old age and your rags?'

"And he called his dogs, and they chased away the poor old woman, and tore her cloak worse than before.

"Then she went into the baker's.

"'I want a loaf or two of bread,' she said. 'I've no money, but--but-- but--'

"'Don't say another word,' said the baker. 'Here are two nice new ones, and some new-laid eggs. Don't thank me. I respect old age, and I pity rags.'

"So the old, old woman crept back to the mountain top, and she and her beautiful daughter had a nice supper.

"And now the strangest part of the story begins, for although the baker's trade increased every day, his store of flour appeared never to diminish. He got richer and richer every month, and was soon in a position to buy a pretty little cottage and furnish it in the prettiest style imaginable; and when he had done so he went and laid his fortune at the feet of Mary the Maid of the Mill. In other words, he went wooing the miller's daughter.

"After a modest pause for thought and consideration she consented, saying as she did so,--

"'I don't marry you for sake of your money, John, because I have quite a deal of gold and silver.'

"'What! you?' said John.

"'Yes, me,' said Mary.

"'But--but--but--' said John.

"'But, how did I get it? Well, I'll tell you. A poor old woman, crawling on a stick and all in rags, called the other night, when the wind blew high and the snow was falling fast, and because I took her in, and sheltered her--just only what anybody would do, John--she left me a bagful of pretty stones. She said she didn't want them, as she knew a hill where they grew, and I took them to the jeweller's, and they paid me so much for them that I am quite wealthy, and I'm going to marry for love.'

"So John was indeed a happy man.

"But that same evening, first the butcher called, and then the fishmonger, and then the grocer, all dressed up in their Sunday clothes.

"So John hid behind a curtain, and as soon as they came into the room, all three proposed to marry Mary the Maid of the Mill.

"Then Mary looked down at them, and laughed and said,--

"'Really, gentlemen, you do me too much honour, but--but--but--'

"'But _I'm_ the happy man,' cried John suddenly, popping out from behind the curtain.

"'_You_!' they all shouted in disdain.

"'Yes, I. I'm very sorry for you, but--but--but--'

"'But what?' they all cried.

"'But I'm going to kick you all out,' said John; 'that's the "but."'

"Then Mary ran and opened the door, and as they ran out John kicked the grocer, then the fishmonger, and last of all the butcher, and they all fell in a heap on the pavement.

"Well, Mary and John got married, and a merrier wedding never was in the village, and when it was all over a gilded coach drove up to the door and took them away to spend the honeymoon in a beautiful seaside village.

"And the old lady was in the carriage and her pretty daughter, but the ragged old cloak was gone, and in its place a robe of ermine and scarlet.

"And Mary and John lived happy together ever after."

"Of course," said Effie, "the old lady was a good fairy."

"Oh yes!" said Mrs Grindlay, "but--but--but--"

"But what, Mrs Grindlay?"

"But it's time for bed."

What a terrible night it was. The wind blew and roared around the building till the whole island seemed to shake, the waves beat and dashed against the rocks, and the spray flew far over the lighthouse itself, and every now and then, high over the howling of the storm and the boom of the seas, rose that strange, eerie scream, like the cry of the sea-bird, but it sounded far more plaintive and pitiful, like--

"The drowning cry Of some strong swimmer in his agony."

And one sentence was mingled with the prayers of Leonard and Effie before they sought their couch--

"G.o.d save all at sea to-night."

Book 1--CHAPTER EIGHT.

"THE WRECK! THE WRECK!"

"The breakers were right beneath her bows, She drifted a dreary wreck, And a whooping billow swept the crew Like icicles from her deck.