might be elf knots in the horses' manes to-night. I doubt me
whether _that sort_ can do much hurt here, seeing as 'tis holy
ground."

"But is he really a changeling? I thought there were no such things
as--"

"Hist, hist, Missie Anne!" cried the dame; "'tis not good to name
them."

"Oh, but we are on the Minster ground, nurse," said Lucy, trembling
a little however, looking over her shoulder, and coming closer to
the old servant.

"Why do they think so?" asked Anne. "Is it because he is so ugly
and mischievous and rude? Not like boys in London."

"Prithee, nurse, tell her the tale," entreated Lucy, who had made
large eyes over it many a time before.

"Ay, and who should tell you all about it save me, who had it all
from Goody Madge Bulpett, as saw it all!"

"Goody Madge! It was she that came when poor little Kitty was born
and died," suggested Lucy, as Anne, laying her aching head upon
nurse's knees, prepared to listen to the story.

"Well, deary darlings, you see poor Madam Oakshott never had her
health since the Great Fire in London, when she was biding with her
kinsfolk to be near Major Oakshott, who had got into trouble about