at down an' conseddered et out, an' still not a word for minnits
togither. But all to wanst up starts a youngish-lookin' rook, an'
makes a speech.

"'Twarn't a long speech, sir, an' nat'rally I didn't understand a
word: but I cotched his drift in a minnit, tho'. For they rooks
started up, walked back to their seats, an' what do 'ee think they
did?"

"I couldn't pretend to guess," said Mr. Fogo.

"They jes' started that sarvice agan, sir, an' paradised et from
start to finish. They mixed up ow jests wi' the prayers, an' flung
in fancy yarns wi' their experiences, an' made a mock at th'
exhortashun; an' what they sung in place o' the hemn, I don't know;
but I _do_ knaw this much--et warn't fit for a woman to list'n to.

"Well, I laffed--I was forced to laff--but arter a while et grew a
bit too strong, an' I runned up to th' house to fetch down a few
folks to look. I warn't away 'bove ten minnits; but when I comed
back there warn't no rook to be seen, nor no eye nuther.
They'd a-carr'd et off to Squire Tresawsen's rookery, an' et's niver
been seen fro' that day to this."

There was silence for a few moments as Caleb finished his story and
lit another pipe. Finally Mr. Fogo roused him to ask--

"What became of your master, Caleb?"

"Dead, sir--dead," answered Caleb, staring into the embers of the
fire. "He lived to a powerful age, tho' albeit a bit totelin' [14]
in hes latter days. But for all that he mou't ha' been like
Tantra-bobus--lived till he died, or at least been a centurion--"

"A what?"

"Centurion, sir; otherwise a hundred years old. But he went round
land [15] at las', an' was foun' dead in hes bed--o' heart-break, they
did say, 'long o' his gran'-darter Joanna runnin' away wi' an army
cap'n."

"Ah!" said Mr. Fogo, pensively, "she was a woman, was she not?"

"To be sure, sir; what elst?--a female woman, an' so baptised."

There was a moment's silence; then Caleb resumed--

"But contrari-wise, sir, the army cap'n was a man."

"Ah! yes, of course; let us be just--the army captain was a man.
Caleb," said Mr. Fogo, with a sudden change from his pensive manner,
"has it ever occurred to you to guess why I--not yet an old man,
Caleb--am living in this solitude?"

"Beggin' your pard'n, sir, an' makin' so free as to guess, but were
it a woman by any chance?"

"Yes," said his master, rising hurriedly and lighting his candle,
"it was a woman, Caleb--it was a woman. You won't forget that No