But all the middle of this valley was a place to rest in; to sit and think that troubles were not, if we would not make them.  To know the sea outside the hills, but never to behold it; only by the sound of waves to pity sailors labouring.  Then to watch the sheltered sun, coming warmly round the turn, like a guest expected, full of gentle glow and gladness, casting shadow far away as a thing to hug itself, and awakening life from dew, and hope from every spreading bud.  And then to fall asleep and dream that the fern was all asparagus.

Alas, I was too young in those days much to care for creature comforts, or to let pure palate have things that would improve it.  Anything went down with me, as it does with most of us.  Too late we know the good from bad; the knowledge is no pleasure then; being memory’s medicine rather than the wine of hope.

Now Mother Melldrum kept her winter in this vale of rocks, sheltering from the wind and rain within the Devil’s Cheese-ring, which added greatly to her fame because all else, for miles around, were afraid to go near it after dark, or even on a gloomy day.  Under eaves of lichened rock she had a winding passage, which none that ever I knew of durst enter but herself.  And to this place I went to seek her, in spite of all misgivings, upon a Sunday in Lenten season, when the sheep were folded.

Our parson (as if he had known my intent) had preached a beautiful sermon about the Witch of Endor, and the perils of them that meddle wantonly with the unseen Powers; and therein he referred especially to the strange noise in the neighbourhood, and upbraided us for want of faith, and many other backslidings.  We listened to him very earnestly, for we like to hear from our betters about things that are beyond us, and to be roused up now and then, like sheep with a good dog after them, who can pull some wool without biting.  Nevertheless we could not see how our want of faith could have made that noise, especially at night time, notwithstanding which we believed it, and hoped to do a little better.

And so we all came home from church; and most of the people dined with us, as they always do on Sundays, because of the distance to go home, with only words inside them.  The parson, who always sat next to mother, was afraid that he might have vexed us, and would not have the best piece of meat, according to his custom.  But soon we put him at his ease, and showed him we were proud of him; and then he made no more to do, but accepted the best of the sirloin.

[Illustration:  145.jpg The Devil’s Cheese-wring]

CHAPTER XVIII

WITCHERY LEADS TO WITCHCRAFT

[Illustration:  146.jpg Illustrated Capital]

Although wellnigh the end of March, the wind blew wild and piercing, as I went on foot that afternoon to Mother Melldrum’s dwelling.  It was safer not to take a horse, lest (if anything vexed her) she should put a spell upon him; as had been done to Farmer Snowe’s stable by the wise woman of Simonsbath.