These mad fellows know what they are about." "No, Sir Bale Mardykes, that is not what he wants," said the loud wild voice of the daft sir over the servant's shoulder.

"Often has Mardykes Hall given me share of its cheer and its shelter and the warmth of its fire; and I bless the house that has been an inn to the wayfarer of the Lord.

But to-night I go up the lake to Pindar's Bield, three miles on; and there I rest and refresh--not here." "And why not _here_, Mr.Creswell ?" asked the Baronet; for about this crazy old man, who preached in the fields, and appeared and disappeared so suddenly in the orbit of his wide and unknown perambulations of those northern and border counties, there was that sort of superstitious feeling which attaches to the mysterious and the good--an idea that it was lucky to harbour and dangerous to offend him.

No one knew whence he came or whither he went.

Once in a year, perhaps, he might appear at a lonely farmstead door among the fells, salute the house, enter, and be gone in the morning.