[Dorry opens the door wide, and Vashti Comes slowly in to the room, leaning on a big staff.

Jane.  Well, Vashti Reed, and what brings you down from the hill to-day?  ’Twould have been better had you bid at home, with the dark coming on and the snow.

Dorry. [Who has closed the door.] Sit down, Granny—­there, close against the fire, do.

[Vashti stands in the middle of the room, looking from one to another.

Dorry.  Sit down, Granny, by the fire, do.

Vashti.  ’Tis in the house and out of it as I have went.  And down to the pool where the ice do lie, and up on the fields where ’tis fog, And there be summat in I what drives I onward, as might the wind.  And no where may the bones of me rest this day.

Jane.  If ’tis to talk your foolishness as you be come, you’d best have stopped away.  Here, sit you down, Vashti Reed, and behave sensible, and maybe as I’ll get you summat warm to drink presently.

Dorry.  Yes, Grannie, sit you down along of we.

[Vashti sits stiffly down by the hearth, leaning on her stick.  Jane resumes her place, and Dorry puts her little stool between them.

Vashti.  And in the night when I was laid down, against the windowpane it fled a three times.  A three time it fled and did beat the pane as though ’twould get in.  And I up and did open the window.  And the air it ran past I, and ’twas black, with naught upon it but the smell of a shroud.  So I knowed.

Dorry.  What did you know, Granny?

Vashti. [Leaning forward and warming her hands at the fire, speaking as though to herself.] Summat lost—­summat lost, and what was trying to get safe away.

Dorry.  Safe away?  From what, Granny?

Vashti.  And there be one what walks abroad in the night time, what holds in the hand of him a stick, greater nor this staff what I holds here, and the knife to it be as long again by twice.

Dorry.  O, Granny, I’ll be a-feared to go across the garden after dark, I shall.

Jane.  What do you want to go and put that there into the child’s head for?  I’d like for Steve to hear you talking of such stuff.

Vashti.  I sat me down at the table, but the victuals was as sand in the mouth, and the drink did put but coldness within I. And when the door was closed, ’twas as if one did come running round the house and did beat upon it for to be let in.  Then I did go for to open it, but the place outside was full of emptiness, and ’twas they old carrion crows what did talk to I out of the storm.

Jane.  How you do go on, to be sure!  Why don’t you speak of summat what’s got some sense to it?  Come, don’t you know as Steve, his wedding day, ’tis to-morrow as ever is.

Dorry.  ’Tis the New Year, too, Granny, as well as Dad’s marriage.