le good that should come of shooting a woman."

This was all said that night; and we brake up at nine o' the clock, and
away hied our guests.

But yestereven, as I was a-crossing of the hall, just after the dusk
fell, what should I see but Aunt _Joyce_, clad in hood, cloak, and
pattens, drawing back of the bolt from the garden door: and I ran to
help her.

"Why, Aunt _Joyce_, whither go you so late?" said I. "But may-be I do
ill to ask."

"Nay, thou dost not so, child," saith she: "and I will take thee into my
secret, for I can trust thee. _Nell_, I am going to see the ghost."

"Aunt _Joyce_," was all I could utter.

"Ay," saith she, "I will: for my mind misgives me that this is no ghost,
but a living woman: and a woman that it should be well had an other
woman to speak unto her. Be not afeared, dear heart; I am not running
afore I am sent. It was said to me last night, `Go in this thy might.'
And when the Lord sends men on His errands, He pays the charges."

"But if you should be hurt, _Aunt_!" cried I.

"Well, what so?" saith she. "He were a poor soldier that were afeared
to be hurt in his King's battles. But if it be as I think, _Nell_,
there is no fear thereof. And if there were, mine ease is of less
moment than a sinner's soul. Nay, dear maid, take thine heart to thee
[cheer up]. There is more with me than all the constables in
_Cumberland_. `Whatsoever the Lord pleased, that did He,--in heaven,
and in the earth, and in the seas, and in all deep places.' I am not
afeared, _Nell_."

And away trudged she, without an other word. But I sat on thorns till,
about seven o' the clock, she came into the great chamber, her hood and
cloak doffed.

"Why, _Joyce_, I had lost thee," saith _Mother_, looking up brightly
from her sewing.

"I would rather thou hadst lost me than the Lord, _Lettice_: and if thou
hadst not, methinks He had found me wanting," saith Aunt _Joyce_. "Now,
dear hearts, list me. I have much trust in you, _Aubrey_ and _Lettice_,
or I had not dared to do as I have done this night. I have brought into
your house a woman that is a sinner. Will you turn her forth of the
doors to die in the snow without, or will you let her 'bide till she
hath had time to behold Him that sitteth as guest at your banquet, and,
I would hope, to wash His feet with tears, and wipe them with the hairs
of her head?"

"O _Joyce_, let her 'bide!" crieth _Mother_, and the tears ran down her
cheeks.

"Amen!