J. S. Le Fanus Ghostly Tales, Volume 5 | Page 3

those clear Murillo tints which
appear in deeper dyes on her wrists and the backs of her hands. These
are the beautiful gipsy-tints with which the sun dyes young skins so
richly.
The old woman eyes all this, and her pretty figure, so round and slender,
and her shapely little feet, cased in the thick shoes that can't hide their
comely proportions, as she stands on the top of the stile. But it is with a
dark and saturnine aspect.
"Come, lass, what stand ye for atoppa t' wall, whar folk may chance to
see thee? I hev a thing to tell thee, lass."
She beckoned her again.
"An' I hev a thing to tell thee, Mall."
"Come hidder," said the old woman peremptorily.
"But ye munna gie me the creepin's" (make me tremble). "I winna look
again into the glass o' water, mind ye."
The old woman smiled grimly, and changed her tone.
"Now, hunny, git tha down, and let ma see thy canny feyace," and she
beckoned her again.
Laura Silver Bell did get down, and stepped lightly toward the door of
the old woman's dwelling.
"Tak this," said the girl, unfolding a piece of bacon from her apron,
"and I hev a silver sixpence to gie thee, when I'm gaen away heyam."
They entered the dark kitchen of the cottage, and the old woman stood

by the door, lest their conference should be lighted on by surprise.
"Afoore ye begin," said Mother Carke (I soften her patois), "I mun tell
ye there's ill folk watchin' ye. What's auld Farmer Lew about, he
doesna get t' sir" (the clergyman) "to baptise thee? If he lets Sunda' next
pass, I'm afeared ye'll never be sprinkled nor signed wi' cross, while
there's a sky aboon us."
"Agoy!" exclaims the girl, "who's lookin' after me?"
"A big black fella, as high as the kipples, came out o' the wood near
Deadman's Grike, just after the sun gaed down yester e'en; I knew weel
what he was, for his feet ne'er touched the road while he made as if he
walked beside me. And he wanted to gie me snuff first, and I wouldna
hev that; and then he offered me a gowden guinea, but I was no sic
awpy, and to bring you here to-night, and cross the candle wi' pins, to
call your lover in. And he said he's a great lord, and in luve wi' thee."
"And you refused him?"
"Well for thee I did, lass," says Mother Carke.
"Why, it's every word true!" cries the girl vehemently, starting to her
feet, for she had seated herself on the great oak chest.
"True, lass? Come, say what ye mean," demanded Mall Carke, with a
dark and searching gaze.
"Last night I was coming heyam from the wake, wi' auld farmer Dykes
and his wife and his daughter Nell, and when we came to the stile, I bid
them good-night, and we parted."
"And ye came by the path alone in the night-time, did ye?" exclaimed
old Mall Carke sternly.
"I wasna afeared, I don't know why; the path heyam leads down by the
wa'as o' auld Hawarth Castle."
"I knaa it weel, and a dowly path it is; ye'll keep indoors o' nights for a

while, or ye'll rue it. What saw ye?"
"No freetin, mother; nowt I was feared on."
"Ye heard a voice callin' yer neyame?"
"I heard nowt that was dow, but the hullyhoo in the auld castle wa's,"
answered the pretty girl. "I heard nor sid nowt that's dow, but mickle
that's conny and gladsome. I heard singin' and laughin' a long way off, I
consaited; and I stopped a bit to listen. Then I walked on a step or two,
and there, sure enough in the Pie-Mag field, under the castle wa's, not
twenty steps away, I sid a grand company; silks and satins, and men wi'
velvet coats, wi' gowd-lace striped over them, and ladies wi' necklaces
that would dazzle ye, and fans as big as griddles; and powdered
footmen, like what the shirra hed behind his coach, only these was ten
times as grand."
"It was full moon last night," said the old woman.
"Sa bright 'twould blind ye to look at it," said the girl.
"Never an ill sight but the deaul finds a light," quoth the old woman.
"There's a rinnin brook thar--you were at this side, and they at that; did
they try to mak ye cross over?"
"Agoy! didn't they? Nowt but civility and kindness, though. But ye
mun let me tell it my own way. They was talkin' and laughin', and eatin',
and drinkin' out o' long glasses and goud cups, seated on the grass, and
music was playin'; and I keekin' behind a bush at all the grand