Eighteen years of age
though I was, my heart beat faster as I thought of Deborah living alone
in a house that had the reputation of being haunted. What was I doing?
In spite of what the vicar had said, was it not wrong for me to hold
converse with the strange old woman?

But I would not go back; and so making straight for the little window,
through which I could see a candle dimly burning, I was soon face to
face with her.

"Maaster Roger was 'fraid," said the old woman, half questioningly,
half wheedlingly.

"No," I said, "I don't think so."

"The Trewinions was never 'fraid ov th' livin', my deer," said the old
woman, "but the dead, ah, the dead."

"They can do me no harm, so why should I be afraid?"

"Ah, why! ah! ha!" she giggled. "But Maaster Roger es weth wawn that
can do lots ov things."

"Oh, yes, lots, Deborah," I said; "you can cure more diseases than any
doctor in Truro."

"And more than that, Maaster Roger; but don't you be 'fraid, my deer, I
wa'ant hurt you."

"No, I don't think you will; but why have you brought me here to-night?"

"Because I want to tell ee summin, my deer. Ah, Maaster Roger, tes
terrible fur theer to be favourites in a house."

I was silent.

"They say how maaster is maaster; tedn't allays so, my deer. Missus es
maaster sometimes. They say I'm a witch, my deer, do'ant um? I read
the Bible, Maaster Roger. Iss, an ould woman like me, and theer I've
seed that Isaac loved Esau best, and 'Becca, she loved Jacob best.
Well, who got off best, my deer, hi? Iss, my deer, and they was twins,
they both had wawn mawther."

"What do you mean?"

"I main that Maaster Roger'll have to be keerful, my deer. Ah, theer's
jillusy in curious plaaces."

"I don't at all understand what you mean."

"No, but you will, my deer. Do'ee mind what I zed to 'ee 'esterday
arternoon, dedn't I tell 'ee as 'ow you'd git nothin' but black looks
for all yer explainin'?"

"Yes, I remember."

"Well, ded 'ee un. Was ould Debrah right or wrong?"

"You were right, Deborah; but then, I was in the wrong. I should not
have hurt him so."

The old woman chuckled as I spoke, as though I were trying to hoax her.

"And ef you wadn't in the wrong, they'd make ee in the wrong between
'em."

"Deborah," I said, "you must be in the wrong. You talk as though my
mother were my enemy."

"Mawther!" she repeated, "who zed she was yer mawther?"

For a minute I did not know what to say. Was she not