Et 'most broke Sam's heart; an', as he said to me wan time, 'For all I knaws 'twas the devil; and for all I knaws th' ould maaster be travellin' roun' Spain to this day; but ef so,' says he, 'I reckon by this time he's like Patty Ward's pig--no lavender.'" "That's a very curious tale," said Mr.Fogo, as Caleb leant back in the window-seat and awaited its effect.
"'Tes so true, sir, as I'm here--or so Sam used to say.

An' the moral goes agen talkin' lightly o' what a man don't understand," he added reflectively.

"But forebodin' es so bad as witch-craf', an' 'tes more'n likely they won't come to-night; but if they does, 'tes on'y fair to ax mun who they be dree times afore firin'.

What's fair for man es fair--" He broke off and clutched his master by the arm.
"Look, sir--look!" About the deck of the old schooner a shaft of light was dancing fitfully--now here, now there, up and down--and all without visible source or guidance.
The two watchers leapt to their feet and peered out at the window.
The strange brilliance flickered to and fro, falling even on the further bank, and threading with a line of yellow the silver-grey of the moonlight.

Then it ceased suddenly.
Caleb and his master waited breathlessly.