Sol Donnell, the herb doctor."

He smiled and nodded, but made no reply.

"Now," said he, "my old crone, come and let me hear what you have to say
for me;" and as he spoke another coin was dropped into her withered and
skinny hand.

"Bring me a candle," said she, in a voice that whistled with age, and if
one could judge by her hag-like and repulsive features, with a malignity
that was a habit of her life. After having inspected his palm with
the candle, she uttered three eldrich laughs, or rather screams, that
sounded through the room as if they were more than natural.

"Ha, ha, ha!" she exclaimed; "look here; there's the line of life
stopped by a red instrument; that's not good; I see it, I feel it; your
life will be short and your death violent; ay, indeed, the purty
bonfire of your life, for all so bright as it burns, will be put out wid
blood--and that soon."

"You're a d--d old croaker," said Woodward, "and take delight in
predicting evil. Here, my good woman," he added, turning to the other,
"there's an additional half-crown for you, and I won't forget your
words."

He and Charles then joined their friends in the other room, and as it
was getting late they all resolved to stroll once more through the town,
in order to take a parting look at the bonfires, to wish the people
good-night, and to thank them for the kindness and alacrity with which
they got them up, and manifested their good feeling upon so short a