matters, and got from him three or four rousing texts such as spectres fear more than a burned child does the fire.  I will learn them all to thee some day, but for the moment take this Latin which I got by heart:  “Abite a me in ignem etemum qui paratus est diabolo at angelis ejus." Englished it means:  “Depart from me into eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels,” but hath at least double that power in Latin.  So get that after me by heart, and use it freely if thou art led to think that there are evil presences near, and in such lonely places as this cave.’  I humoured him by doing as he desired; and that the rather because I hoped his thoughts would thus be turned away from the writing; but as soon as I had the spell by rote he turned back to the parchment, saying, ’He was but a poor divine who wrote this, for beside choosing ill-fitting verses, he cannot even give right numbers to them.  For see here, “The days of our age are three-score years and ten; and though men be so strong that they come to four-score years, yet is their strength then but labour and sorrow, so soon passeth it away and we are gone”, and he writes Psalm 90,21.  Now I have said that Psalm with parson verse and verse about for every sleeper we have laid to rest in churchyard mould for thirty years; and know it hath not twenty verses in it, all told, and this same verse is the clerk’s verse and cometh tenth, and yet he calls it twenty-first.  I wish I had here a Common Prayer, and I would prove my words.’

He stopped and flung me back the parchment scornfully; but I folded it and slipped it in my pocket, brooding all the while over a strange thought that his last words had brought to me.  Nor did I tell him that I had by me my aunt’s prayer-book, wishing to examine for myself more closely whether he was right, after he should have gone.

‘I must be away,’ he said at last, ’though loath to leave this good fire and liquor.  I would fain wait till Elzevir was back, and fainer till this gale was spent, but it may not be; the nights are short, and I must be out of Purbeck before sunrise.  So tell Block what I say, that he and thou must flit; and pass the flask, for I have fifteen miles to walk against the wind, and must keep off these midnight chills.’

He drank again, and then rose to his feet, shaking himself like a dog; and walking briskly across the cave twice or thrice to make sure, as I thought, that the Ararat milk had not confused his steps.  Then he shook my hand warmly, and disappeared in the deep shadow of the passage-mouth.

The wind was blowing more fitfully than before, and there was some sign of a lull between the gusts.  I stood at the opening of the passage, and listened till the echo of Ratsey’s footsteps died away, and then returning to the corner, flung more wood on the fire, and lit the candle.  After that I took out again the parchment, and also my aunt’s red prayer-book, and sat down to study them.