grass. Last year a stag that I wounded plunged into this infernal marsh, and I watched him sink slowly, slowly. ... In five minutes I saw only his horns, and soon he disappeared completely, two of my dogs with him."
"But I am not heavy," said the old woman, chuckhng.
"I think you could cross the marsh easily on a broomstick."
A flash of anger shone in the old woman's eyes.
" Sir," she said, returning to the drawling and nasal twang of the beggar, " haven't you a pipe of tobacco to give a poor woman? Thou hadst better search for a passage through the swamp than go to Dowghielly," she added in a lower tone.
"Dowghielly!" said the Count, reddening, " what do you mean? "
I could not help noticing that this word produced a singular effect upon him. He was visibly embarrassed; he lowered his head in order to hide his confusion, and busied himself over opening the tobacco pouch which hung at the hilt of his hunting knife.
"No, do not go to Dowghielly," repeated the old woman. " The little white dove is not for thee, is she, Pirkuns?"
