oos, of spectres and awful voices
speaking from out the dank stillness of twilight hollows. Often she sent
quaking to their pallets men who would have heard the war-whoop with
scarcely quickened pulses. And she could tell of every-day domestic
happenings as well as of the doings of the powers of darkness.

Her audience listened greedily to the instance of plantation economy
which she proceeded to relate.

"When was this, woman?" demanded the Muggletonian, when she had
finished.

Margery pointed to the declining sun and then upwards to a spot a little
past the zenith.

"Just after the nooning," said the Muggletonian, and began to curse.

Margery stood up, her staff in her hand, and said airily, "Margery must
be going. The sun is growing large and red, and when he has slipped away
behind the woods, the voices will begin to call to Margery from the
hollow where the brook falls into the black pool. She must be there to
answer them." She moved away with a rapid and gliding step, flitted
across the fallen tree, and was lost to sight in the shadow of the pines
beyond.

As the last flutter of her light robe vanished, a figure appeared,
walking rapidly along the opposite margin of the creek. The youth's
sight was keen. He sent a piercing glance across the intervening
distance and broke into an astonished laugh. "Lord in Heaven! it's the
man himself!" he cried in an awed tone. "Ecod! he must be made of iron!"

Landless crossed the bridge and came towards the staring group. His face
was white and set, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes, which
had the wide unseeing stare of a sleep-walker. He walked lightly and
quickly, with a free, lithe swing of his body. The men looked at one
another in rough wonder, knowing what was hidden by the coarse shirt. He
passed them without a word, apparently without knowing that they were
there, and went on towards the hut of the mender of nets. Presently they
saw him enter and shut the door.

The rustics and the convict, after one long stare of amazement at the
distant hut, began to comment freely and with much recondite blasphemy
upon the transaction recorded by Margery. Luiz Sebastian only smiled
amiably, like a lazy and well-disposed catamount, and the boy whistled
long and thoughtfully. But the countenance of Master Win-Grace Porringer
wore an expression of secret satisfaction.

CHAPTER XI

LANDLESS BECOMES A CONSPIRATOR

As Landless entered the hut Godwyn looked u