dead mother gazed mournfully at him from the dark and dusky figure.
The bell tolled eleven; the pale figure vanished with a groan; the owls and night ravens flew screeching up into the air, and the skulls and bones clattered beneath their wings. William knelt down by his hearth of coals. He began steadily to cast, and, with the last sound of the bell, the first ball fell from the mould.
The owls and the skulls were quiet; but along the road an old woman, bent down with the weight of age, advanced towards the circle. She was hung round with wooden spoons, ladles, and other kitchen utensils, which made a frightful clattering. The owls screeched at her approach, and caressed her with their wings. Arrived at the circle, she stooped down to seize the bones and the skulls; but the coals hissed flames at her, and she drew back her withered hands from the fire. Then she paced round the circle, and, grinning and chattering, held up her wares towards William. “Give me the skulls,” she gabbled; “give me the skulls, and I will give thee my treasures; give me the skulls, the skulls; what canst thou want with the trash? Thou art mine—mine, dear bridegroom; none can help thee:
