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“You’m wise enough, ma’am; everybody knaws that.”

“Not that I set up for anything above my neighbours, though I may have done ’em a gude service here an’ theer.”

“A many of ’em—Lard, He knaws how many,” declared John, eagerly. “Taake my awn case. Didn’t ’e tell me how to win my maid for a silver sixpence, an’ didn’t I do as you bid an’ worrit her marnin’, noon an’ night till she said the word? An’ didn’t Digory Crampiron, the shepherd, come to ’e ’pon the same cause an’ ax what fashion woman ’twas as he’d best pay court to? An’ didn’t you say her’d be a dark maid? An’ sure enough dark her was; an’ a gude wife an’ mother these many days now.”

“That’s the thing I’d like to hear!” cried Timothy. “Read me riddles, Gammer. Tell me my fate in marriage, and when the girl is coming, and what she’ll be like. Tell me, and I’ll give thee a golden guinea!”

Now it fell out, strangely enough, that the white witch knew certain facts hidden from her questioner—facts that none the less concerned him in some measure. She had that forenoon visited Bellever Barton to find the household of the farm in some confusion. The Christmas guests had arrived three days earlier than they were expected; that circumstance being explained by an opportunity to travel cheaply to Moretonhampstead on a stage-coach, some of whose passengers had failed it. From Moreton to Postbridge was no great matter, and the male travellers had ridden that distance, bringing their luggage on a packhorse and their ladies upon pillions behind them. In the bustle and confusion caused by this premature advent, Gammer Gurney was kept waiting in the buttery—treatment very rarely extended to her dignity. But this delay had not been wasted. A garrulous housekeeper explained circumstances to the old woman and added that one of the newcomers, a girl of a fair face, reserved manners and great good sense, had won Farmer Chave’s heart, and was by him secretly destined for Timothy without that young man’s knowledge. This maiden the Gammer had seen and spoken with before she departed homeward; but as for Tim, he knew nothing of the business. Thus it may be guessed what excellent matter for a prophecy was now at the hand of the white witch. Indeed, she had oftentimes done miracles in the public esteem with less promising material. Nevertheless, this circumspect woman shewed no eagerness to take young Chave at his word.