alarm of the women was lessened on seeing a young boy creep stealthily
over the grass and approach the open door.

"Hey, child!" said Madge, rising. "What wantest thou?"

"Hist, gammer, hist! Ah, the young mistress? That's well. Hist! I
say again." The boy entered the room. "I'm in time to save you. In
half an hour your house will be broken into, perhaps burned. The boys
are clapping their hands now at the thoughts of the bonfire. Father
and all the neighbours are getting ready. Hark! hark! No, it is only
the wind! The tymbesteres are to give note. When you hear their
bells tinkle, the mob will meet. Run for your lives, you and the old
man, and don't ever say it was poor Tim who told you this, for Father
would beat me to death. Ye can still get through the garden into the
fields. Quick!"

"I will go to the master," exclaimed Madge, hurrying from the room.

The child caught Sibyll's cold hand through the dark. "And I say,
mistress, if his worship is a wizard, don't let him punish Father and
Mother, or poor Tim, or his little sister; though Tim was once
naughty, and hooted Master Warner. Many, many, many a time and oft
have I seen that kind, mild face in my sleep, just as when it bent
over me, while I kicked and screamed, and the poor gentleman said,
'Thinkest thou I would harm thee?' But he'll forgive me now, will he
not? And when I turned the seething water over myself, and they said
it was all along of the wizard, my heart pained more than the arm.
But they whip me, and groan out that the devil is in me, if I don't
say that the kettle upset of itself! Oh, those tymbesteres!
Mistress, did you ever see them? They fright me. If you could hear