all for
unless thou kill them, they will kill thee."

At length, after tiresome days upon the road, they came to a little
hamlet in the hills. Here the donkeys were disposed of and a great horse
purchased, upon which the two rode far up into a rough and uninviting
country away from the beaten track, until late one evening they
approached a ruined castle.

The frowning walls towered high against the moonlit sky beyond, and
where a portion of the roof had fallen in, the cold moon, shining
through the narrow unglazed windows, gave to the mighty pile the
likeness of a huge, many-eyed ogre crouching upon the flank of a
deserted world, for nowhere was there other sign of habitation.

Before this somber pile, the two dismounted. The little boy was filled
with awe and his childish imagination ran riot as they approached the
crumbling barbican on foot, leading the horse after them. From the dark
shadows of the ballium, they passed into the moonlit inner court. At the
far end the old woman found the ancient stables, and here, with decaying
planks, she penned the horse for the night, pouring a measure of oats
upon the floor for him from a bag which had bung across his rump.

Then she led the way into the dense shadows of the castle, lighting
their advance with a flickering pine knot. The old planking of the
floors, long unused, groaned and rattled beneath their approach. There
was a sudden scamper of clawed feet before them, and a red fox dashed by
in a frenzy of alarm toward the freedom of the outer night.

Presently they came to the great hall. The old woman pushed open the
great doors upon their creaking hinges and lit up dimly the mighty,
cavernous interior with the puny rays of their feeble torch. As they
stepped cautiously within, an impalpable dust arose in little spurts
from the long-rotted rushes that crumbled beneath their feet. A huge
bat circled wildly with loud fluttering wings in evident remonstrance at
this rude intrusion. Strange creatures of the night scurried or wriggled
across wall and floor.

But the child was unafraid. Fear had not been a part of the old woman's
curriculum. The boy did not know the meaning of the word, nor was
he ever in his after-life to experience the sensation. With childish
eagerness, he followed his companion as she inspected the interior of
the chamber. It was still an imposing room. The boy clapped his hands
in delight at the beauties of the carved and panelled walls and the oak