d grieve her, but old Sally was satisfied without asking
questions, for which indeed she had little strength, but said that it
was well, and that she would now go in peace. Then she wished them
both good-bye and hoped they might live long and happily together,
though they had told her nothing of what had passed between themselves;
and those were the last words that she spoke, for she was stricken for
the second time that evening and after lingering for a day and a night
departed in peace, as she had said.

So there were three graves dug in the little churchyard; and
grandmother, mother and son were buried together, so that the mourners
for old Sally did honour also to the two whom they had treated as
outcasts. The goats, the old pony, the magpie, the jackdaw and the
squirrel were all brought down at the same time and made over to Elsie;
and the little drummer's coat still lies in the glass case at Bracefort
Hall.

But it was all many, many years ago; and there are few now living in
Ashacombe village who remember to have heard from their parents the
story of the witch of Cossacombe. There are many more monuments now in
the churches both at Ashacombe and Fitzdenys than there were then; but
those who read from them of George, Lord Fitzdenys, who fought in the
Peninsula, at Waterloo, and at Maheidpore, and of Eleanor his beloved
wife, think little or know nothing of the manner in which they were
brought together. Still less do they know of the part played in the
matter by John Brimacott, sometime of the Light Dragoons, who died in
their household after forty years of good and faithful service. Those
again who read an inscription to the memory of General Sir Richard
Bracefort, Colonel of the 116th Lancers, who fought in the Punjaub,
cannot tell that this was once little Dick, who was lost on the moor,
nor that Elizabeth his widowed sister, whose memory also is preserved
in Ashacombe church, was once little Elsie who was lost with him. But
folks still pause to look at the tablet which records the death of
Private John Dart in the retreat to Corunna, and of Lucy his wife, who
after his fall carried her son of nine years old to the British ships,
and having devoted the rest of her life to the care of him, who by
God's visitation could take no care for himself, was found dead upon
his body when he died.

THE END

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Drummer's Coat, by J. W. Fortescue