"I don't think I like being a hermit," she began. "I don't know nought what it means, but I fancy it must be very thinning and running down to the const.i.tootion."

Polly looked at her, and burst out laughing.

"It is," she said, "that's what the life was meant for, to subdue the flesh in all possible ways; you'll get as thin as a whipping-post, Mag."

"I don't like it," retorted Maggie. "Maybe we'd best be returning home, now, Miss Polly."

Polly's eyes flashed. She caught Maggie by the shoulder.

"You are a mean girl," she said. "You got me into this sc.r.a.pe, and now you mean to desert me. I was sitting quietly in my room, reading through the M's in Webster's Dictionary, and you came and asked me to run away; it was your doing, Maggie, you know that."

"Yes, miss! yes, Miss!"

Maggie began to sob. "But I never, never thought it meant berries and spring-water; no, that I didn't. Oh, I be so hungry!"

At this moment all angry recriminations were frozen on the lips of both little girls, for rising suddenly, almost as it seemed from the ground at their feet, appeared a gaunt woman of gigantic make.

"Maybe you'll be hungrier," she said in a menacing voice. "What business have you to go through Deadman's Copse without leave?"

Maggie was much too alarmed to make any reply, but Polly, after a moment or two of startled silence, came boldly to the rescue.

"Who are you?" she said. "Maggie and I know nothing of Deadman's Copse; this is a wood, and we are going through it; we have got business on the other side of Peg-Top-Moor."

"That's as it may be," replied the woman, "this wood belongs to me and to my sons, Nathaniel and Patrick, and to our dogs, Cinder and Flinder, and those what goes through Deadman's Copse must pay toll to me, the wife of Micah Jones. My husband is dead, and he left the wood to me, and them as go through it must pay toll."

The woman's voice was very menacing; she was of enormous size, and going up to the little girls, attempted to place one of her brawny arms on Polly's shoulder. But Polly with all her faults possessed a great deal of courage; her eyes flashed, and she sprang aside from the woman's touch.

"You are talking nonsense," she said. "Father has over and over told me that the moor belongs to the Queen, so this little bit couldn't have been given to your husband, Micah Jones, and we are just as free to walk here as you are. Come on, Maggie, we'll be late for our business if we idle any longer."

But the woman with a loud and angry word detained her.

"Highty-tighty!" she said. "Here's spirit for you, and who may your respected papa be, my dear? He seems to be mighty wise. And the wife of Micah Jones would much like to know his name."

"You're a very rude unpleasant woman," said Polly. "Don't hold me, I won't be touched by you. My father is Dr. Maybright, of Sleepy Hollow, you must know his name quite well."

The wife of Micah Jones dropped a supercilious curtsey.

"Will you tell Dr. Maybright, my pretty little dear," she said, "that in these parts might is right, and that when the Queen wants Deadman's Copse, she can come and have a talk with me, and my two sons, and the dogs, Cinder and Flinder. But, there, what am I idling for with a chit like you? You and that other girl there have got to pay toll. You have both of you got to give me your clothes. There's no way out of it, so you needn't think to try words, nor blarney, nor nothing else with me, I have a sack dress each for you, and what you have on is mine. That's the toll, you will have to pay it. My hut is just beyond at the other side of the wood, my sons are away, but Cinder and Flinder will take care of you until I come back, at nine o'clock. Here, follow me, we're close to the hut. No words, or it will be the worse for you. On in front, the two of you, or you, little Miss," shaking her hand angrily at Polly, "will know what it means to bandy words with the wife of Micah Jones."

The woman's face became now very fierce and terrible, and even Polly was sufficiently impressed to walk quietly before her, clutching hold of poor terrified Maggie's hand.

The hut to which the woman took the little girls was the very hermit's hut to which their own steps had been bent. It was a very dirty place, consisting of one room, which was now filled with smoke from a fire made of broken f.a.ggots, fir-cones, and withered fern. Two ugly, lean-looking dogs guarded the entrance to the hut. When they saw the woman coming, they jumped up and began to bark savagely; poor Maggie began to scream, and Polly for the first time discovered that there could be a worse state of things than solitary confinement in her room, with Webster's Dictionary for company.

"Sit you there," said the woman, pushing the little girls into the hut.

"I'll be back at nine o'clock. I'm off now on some business of my own.

When I come back I'll take your clothes, and give you a sack each to wear. Cinder and Flinder will take care of you; they're very savage dogs, and can bite awful, but they won't touch you if you sit very quiet, and don't attempt to run away."

CHAPTER XIX.

DISTRESSED HEROINES.

If ever poor little girls found themselves in a sad plight it was the two who now huddled close together in the hermit's hut. Even Polly was thoroughly frightened, and as to Maggie, nothing but the angry growls of Cinder restrained the violence of her sobs.

"Oh, ain't a hermit's life awful!" she whispered more than once to her companion. "Oh! Miss Polly, why did you speak of Peg-Top Moor, and the hermit's hut, and berries and water?"

"Don't be silly, Maggie," said Polly, "I did not mention the wife of Micah Jones, nor these dreadful dogs. This is a misfortune, and we must bear it as best we can. Have you none of the spirit of a heroine in you, Maggie; don't you know that in all the story-books, when the heroines run away, they come to dreadful grief? If we look at it in that light, and think of ourselves as distressed heroines, it will help us to bear up. Indeed," continued Polly, "if it wasn't for my having been naughty a few days ago, and perhaps father coming back to-night, I think I'd enjoy this--I would really. As it is----" Here the brave little voice broke off into a decided quaver. The night was falling, the stars were coming out in the sky, and Polly, standing in the door of the hut, with her arm thrown protectingly round Maggie's neck, found a great rush of loneliness come over her.

During those weary days spent in her bedroom, repentance, even in the most transient guise, had scarcely come near her. She was too much oppressed with a sense of injustice done to herself to be sorry about the feast in the attic. In short, all her time was spent in blaming Aunt Maria.

Now with the lonely feeling came a great soreness of heart, and an intense and painful longing for her mother. Those fits of longing which came to Polly now and then heralded in, as a rule, a tempest of grief.

Wherever she was she would fling herself on the ground, and give way to most pa.s.sionate weeping. Her eyes swam in tears now, she trembled slightly, but controlled herself. On Maggie's account it would never do for her to give way. The ugly dogs came up and sniffed at her hands, and smelt her dress. Maggie screamed when they approached her, but Polly patted their heads. She was not really afraid of them, neither was she greatly alarmed at the thought of the wife of Micah Jones. What oppressed her, and brought that feeling of tightness to her throat, and that smarting weight of tears to her eyes, were the great mult.i.tude of stars in the dark-blue heavens, and the infinite and grand solitude of the moors which lay around.

The night grew darker; poor Maggie, worn out, crouched down on the ground; Polly, who had now quite made friends with Cinder, sat by Maggie's side, and when the poor hungry little girl fell asleep, Polly let her rest her head in her lap. The dogs and the two children were all collected in the doorway of the hut, and now Polly could look more calmly up at the stars, and the tears rolled silently down her cheeks.

It was in this position that, at about a quarter to nine, Dr. Maybright found her. Some instinct seemed to lead him to Peg-Top Moor--a sudden recollection brought the hut to his memory, a ringing voice, and gay laugh came back to him. The laugh was Polly's, the words were hers. "Oh, if there could be a delightful thing, it would be to live as a hermit in the hut at the other side of Peg-Top Moor!"

"The child is there," he said to himself. And when this thought came to him he felt so sure that it was a true and guiding thought that he whistled for the men who were to help him in the search, and together they went to the hut.

Cinder and Flinder had got accustomed to Polly, whom they rather liked; Maggie they barely tolerated; but the firm steps of three strangers approaching the hut caused them to bristle up, to call all their canine ferocity to their aid, and to bark furiously.

But all their show of enmity mattered nothing in such a supreme moment as this to Polly. No dogs, however fierce, should keep her from the arms of her father. In an instant she was there, cuddling up close to him, while the men he had brought with him took care of Maggie, and beat off the angry dogs.

"Father, there never was any one as naughty as I have been!"

"My darling, you have found that out?"

"Yes, yes, yes! and you may punish me just whatever way you like best, only let me kiss you now. Punish me, but don't be angry."

"I'm going to take you home," said Doctor, who feared mischief from Polly's present state of strong excitement. "I expect you have gone through a fright and have had some punishment. The minute, too, we find out that we are really naughty, our punishment begins, as well as our forgiveness. I shall very likely punish you, child, but be satisfied, I forgive you freely. Now home, and to bed, and no talk of anything to-night, except a good supper, and a long restful sleep. Come, Polly, what's the matter? Do you object to be carried?"

"But not in your arms, father. I am so big and heavy, it will half kill you."

"You are tall, but not heavy, you are as light as a reed. Listen! I forbid you to walk a step. When I am tired there are two men to help me.

Simpkins, will you and George give Maggie a hand, and keep close to us.

Now, we had better all get home as fast as possible."

It was more than half-past ten that night before Polly and the Doctor returned to Sleepy Hollow. But what a journey home she had! how comforting were the arms that supported her, how restful was the shoulder, on which now and then in an ecstasy to love and repentance, she laid her tired head! The stars were no longer terrible, far-off, and lonely, but near and friendly, like the faces of well-known friends. The moor ceased to be a great, vast, awful solitude, it smelt of heather, and was alive with the innumerable sounds of happy living creatures--and best of all, mother herself seemed to come back out of the infinite, to comfort the heart of the sorrowful child.

CHAPTER XX.

LIMITS.