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He heard words half laughing, half annoyed, in the girl’s uplifted voice.

“Who be glazin’ at then? Make way, caan’t ’e? Do ’e think I be a ghost out the wood?”

“Not a bit of it! A good fairy, more likely. And forgive me; I wanted so much to hear you speak.”

“You’m a very impident chap then, for all your gert gashly gun awver your shoulder!”

The woman passed Timothy light footed, then, turning quickly down a lane, she disappeared, just as John joined his master. The young man was in an extremity of excitement.

“Good God! Did you see her—that red girl? An’ after what the hag said! Her eyes, man! Eyes like stars in the dark and a voice like the wood doves! I came straight upon her peeping out of her red hood, like the queen of pixies! Who is she, John? Who’s her father? And where has she vanished to? Speak if you know. ’Tis a marvellous miracle of a thing that I should meet her in this way. I could swear I was dreaming; yet I’m as much awake as she was alive. Who in the name of wonder is she? Speak if you know.”