out of the window and challenged the apparition, bating
his tone as all people bate it at that hour.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

There was no reply for a moment, though he felt sure his voice must have
carried to the quay-door. The figure paused for a second or two, then
unbarred the lower flap of the door and advanced across the wall's
shadow to the centre of the bright grass-plat under the window. It was
the figure of a young woman. Her head was bare and her sleeves turned
up to the elbows. She wore no cloak or wrap to cover her from the night
air, and her short-skirted, coarse frock was open at the neck. As she
turned up her face to the window, the minister could see by the moon's
rays that it was well-favoured.

"Be you the new preacher?" she asked, resting a hand on her hip and
speaking softly up to him.

"I am the new Independent minister."

"Then I've come for you."

"Come for me?"

"Iss; my name's Nance Trewartha, an' you'm wanted across the water,
quick as possible. Old Mrs. Slade's a-dyin' to-night, over yonder."

"She wants me?"

"She's one o' your congregation, an' can't die easy till you've seen
her. I reckon she's got something 'pon her mind; an' I was to fetch you
over, quick as I could."

As she spoke the church clock down in the town chimed out the hour, and
immediately after, ten strokes sounded on the clear air.

The minister consulted his own watch and seemed to be considering.

"Very well," said he after a pause. "I'll come. I suppose I must cross
by the ferry."

"Ferry's closed this two hours, an' you needn't wake up any in the
house. I've brought father's boat to the ladder below, an' I'll bring
you back again. You've only to step out here by the back door. An'
wrap yourself up, for 'tis a brave distance."

"Very well. I suppose it's really serious."

"Mortal. I'm glad you'll come," she added simply.

The young man nodded down in a friendly manner, and going back into the
room, slipped on his overcoat, picked up his hat, and turned the lamp
down carefully. Then he struck a match, found his way to the back-door,
and unbarred it. The girl was waiting for him, still in the centre of
the grass-plat.

"I'm glad you've come," she repeated, but this time there was something
like constraint in her voice. As he pulled-to the door softly she
moved, and led the way down to the water-side.

From the quay-door a long ladder ran down to the water. At low water
one had