The three Hervey boys stared.

'Who told you so, Nance?' said Archie, the readiest with his tongue.

'There is a little girl at Aunt Mattie's, but we never saw her till this afternoon, and n.o.body has said anything about her having lessons at our house.'

'How do you hear things?' added Pat, looking the old woman straight in the face, for he had had, before this, experience of old Nance's extraordinary power of picking up news. 'Is she really a witch?' he added to himself, though he would not have dared to say it aloud.

Nance smiled, but did not reply.

'Won't you step in?' she said, pushing the door of the cottage wider open. 'I've just tidied up, and I was fetching in a handful of bracken.

It flames up so brightly.'

It was chilly outside, and Nance's fire was very inviting. Pat stepped forward to it, and stood warming his hands over the blaze.

'And so your papa and mamma are away?' continued the old woman. 'You'll be missing them, though it's not for long.'

'There you are again!' said Pat. 'You know more about us than we do ourselves. _We_ have not heard for certain when they're coming back.'

'_I_ don't mind if they stay away a little longer,' said Justin. 'It's rather fine being alone for a bit. If only we had holidays just now, and Miss Ward was away too, it would be very jolly.'

Nance patted his shoulder with her thin brown hand.

'Book learning's all very well,' she said. 'Young gentlemen like you must have it. But it do seem against nature for young things to be cooped up the best part of the day. There's my Bob now, there's no getting him to stay indoors an hour at a time, be the weather what it will,' and she glanced at her grandson with a certain pride.

Bob laughed, and in the dancing firelight his teeth glistened like pearls.

'I think we mustn't stay longer,' said Archie suddenly. He meant what he said, but, besides this, somehow or other, he always felt a little afraid of Nance, and this evening the feeling was stronger than usual.

The growing darkness outside, the peculiar radiance of the fire, for the flames were dancing up the chimney like live things, and, above all, the old woman's strange knowledge of matters which it was difficult to account for her having heard, all added to this creepy feeling. And added to this, Archie had a tender conscience, and he knew that though they had never been actually forbidden to speak to the Crags, their father and mother did not care about their doing so, more than was called for in a kindly, neighbourly way.

Justin and Patrick had consciences too, though Justin was very clever at 'answering his back,' and trying to silence its remarks, while Pat was so often in a kind of dreamland of his own fancy, that he slipped into many things without quite realising what he was about. Just now he was enjoying himself very much. He loved the queerness and fascination of old Nance and her belongings. It was like living in a fairy-story to him, and he felt rather cross at Archie for interrupting it, though he said nothing.

'I'm not going,' said Justin, 'till I've seen the corner where Bob means to keep our ferrets if we get them.'

'To be sure,' said Bob eagerly. 'I'll show you where in a minute if you'll come with me, Master Justin.'

And the two went out together. Archie got up to follow them, but stopped short in the doorway, for, in spite of his fears, he was really more interested in Nance than in the ferrets. Her first remark surprised him again exceedingly.

'And you'll bring the little young lady to see me some day soon, Master Pat, won't you?' she said. 'She'd like to come, I know, for she's heard tell of me, and she loves the moor.'

'Nance,' said Pat gravely, 'I do believe you heard us talking on the mound this afternoon, when Miss Mouse was with us, and that's how you know all these things.'

Nance only laughed.

'Think what you're saying, Master Pat,' she replied. 'Could I have been near you and you not see me? Unless I had the hiding-cap that the fairies left behind them on the moor many a year ago, but that n.o.body's found yet, though many have looked for it.'

'Then how do you know they left it,' said Pat quickly.

''Tis just an old tale,' she said carelessly. 'These days are past and gone--worse luck. It was fine times when the good people came about--fine times for those they took a fancy to, at least. Why, there was my own great-grandmother had many a tale to tell, when I was a child, of what they did for her and hers to help them through troubles and bring them good luck.'

'Your great-grandmother,' repeated Pat, 'why what an awfully long time ago that must have been! For I suppose you are very old yourself, Nance, aren't you?'

She did not seem at all offended at this remark. On the contrary she nodded her head as if rather pleased, as she replied,

'You're in the right there, Master Pat,' she said. 'I've lived a good while; longer than you'd think for, perhaps, and I've seen strange things in my time. And my great-grandmother was a very old woman when I remember her. And yet it was seldom, even in those days, that the good people showed themselves.'

'Do they _never_ come now?' inquired Archie, from the doorway. 'Not even in wild, lonely places like this,' for he was gazing out upon the moor, and the fast-falling darkness added to the mysterious loneliness of the far-stretching prospect before him.

His words gave Pat a new idea.

'Your stories can't have to do with this moor, Nance,' he said. 'You didn't live here when you were young, I know.'

Nance shook her head.

'Deed no,' she replied. 'Many a long mile away from here. The place I first remember _was_ lonesome, if you like. There's not many such places to be found now, and they're getting fewer and fewer. No wonder the good people are frightened away with the railways coming all over the country. Why, the stage-coaches were bad enough, and some folks say there'll be no more of them,' and again Nance shook her head.

'Was your old home a moor too?' asked Pat. 'Was that why you came to live here?'

'You've guessed true,' replied the old woman. 'The moorland air is native air to me, though this is a small place compared to where I was born. It'll last my time, however, and yours too for that matter.

There'll be no railroads across it till the world's a good many years older.'

'How do you know that?' asked Pat, with increasing curiosity. 'Do you know things that are going to happen as well as things that have happened? I wish you'd tell me how you find them out!'

'That I can't do,' was the reply. 'There's some as has the gift, though how it comes they can't tell. It's like music, there's some as it speaks to more than any words, and others to whom one note of it is like another. And who can say why!' She ended, drawing a deep breath.

This talk was growing rather beyond Archie. He strolled into the little kitchen again towards his brother, who was still seated by the fire, where Nance had by this time settled herself opposite him. The flames were still dancing gaily up the chimney. It almost seemed to Pat as if they leaped and frolicked with increased life as the old woman held out her hands to their pleasant warmth. But then of course Pat was very fanciful.

'Tell us a story of the fairies and your great-grandmother,' said Archie. 'What was it they did to help her?'

'There's not time for it now,' Nance replied. 'There's Master Justin and Bob at the door,' and, sure enough, as Archie looked round the two other boys made their appearance, though not the slightest sound of their footsteps had been heard.

Certainly, old as she was, Nance's hearing seemed as quick as that of the fairy Five-Ears.

'I don't want to keep you longer,' she went on, 'or your folk wouldn't be best pleased with me. You must come another day, and bring the little young lady, and old Nance will have some pretty stories ready for you.'

So the three boys bade her good evening and set off homewards, Bob accompanying them a part of the way, talking eagerly to Justin about the ferret scheme they were so full of.

Pat was very silent.

'What are you thinking about?' said Justin, when Bob had left them. 'You seem half asleep, both you and Archie.'

'I was thinking about old Nance,' said Pat; 'she's awfully queer.'

'Yes,' Archie agreed. 'I like her and I don't like her. At least I felt to-night as if I were a little afraid of her.'

'Rubbish,' said Justin. 'That's Pat putting nonsense in your head. If you're going to stuff him with all your fancies, Pat, I'd rather you didn't come with us.'

Archie turned upon him.

'That's not fair of you, Jus,' he said indignantly. '_I_ think Pat's been very good-natured this evening. And if I were he I wouldn't give you any money for those ferrets if you spoke like that.'