The water was cold as ice; but on emerging from it he felt wonderfully refreshed.

Having dressed himself, he wrapped his cloak around him, and, throwing himself on the stone floor, placed the knapsack under his head, and grasping a petronel in his right hand, to be ready in case of a surprise, disposed himself to slumber.
[Illustration: _Vision of Guy Fawkes at Saint Winifred's Well_] Accustomed to a soldier's couch, he soon fell asleep.

He had not long closed his eyes when he dreamed that from out of the well a female figure, slight and unsubstantial as the element from which it sprang, arose.

It was robed in what resembled a nun's garb; but so thin and vapoury, that the very moonlight shone through it.

From the garments of the figure, as well as from the crimson circle round its throat, he knew that it must be the patroness of the place, the sainted Winifred, that he beheld.