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and send him out to bring them back, and it was at this juncture that the two mothers arrived on the scene.  There was little real danger.  A rope was thrown and caught, and after about half an hour of watching they were safely landed, but the tide had ebbed so far that they had to take off their shoes and stockings and wade through the mud.  They were open-mouthed against the imp who had enticed them to rock in the boat, then in one second had cut the painter, bounded out, and sent them adrift with his mocking ‘Ho! ho! ho!’  Sedley Archfield clenched his fists, and gazed round wildly in search of the goblin to chastise him soundly, and Charles was ready to rush all over the castle in search of him.

      “Two to one!” cried Anne, “and he so small; you would never be so cowardly.”

      “As if he were like an honest fellow,” said Charley.  “A goblin like that has his odds against a dozen of us.”

      “I’d teach him, if I could but catch him,” cried Sedley.

      “I told you,” said Anne, “that he would be good if you would let him alone and not plague him.”

      “Now, Anne,” said Charles, as he sat putting on his stockings, “how could I stand being cast off for that hobgoblin, that looks as if he had been cut out of a root of yew with a blunt knife, and all crooked!  I that always was your sweetheart, to see you consorting with a mis-shapen squinting Whig of a Nonconformist like that.”

      “Nonconformist!  I’ll Nonconform him indeed,” added Sedley.  “I wish I had the wringing of his neck.”

      “Now is not that hard!” said Anne; “a poor lad who has been very sick, and that every one baits and spurns.”

      “Serve him right,” said Sedley; “he shall have more of the same sauce!”

      “I think he has cast his spell on Anne,” added Charles, “or how can she stand up for him?”

      “My mamma bade me be kind to him.”

      “Kind!  I would as lief be kind to a toad!” put in Lucy.

      “To see you kind to him makes me sick,” exclaimed Charles.  “You see what comes of it.”

      “It did not come of my kindness, but of your unkindness,” reasoned Anne.

      “I told you so,” said Charles.  “You would have been best pleased if we had been carried out to sea and drowned!”

      Anne burst into tears and disavowed any such intention, and Charles was protesting that he would only forgive her on condition of her never showing any kindness to Peregrine again, when a sudden shower of sand and pebbles descended, one of them hitting Sedley pretty sharply on the ear.  The boys sprang up with a howl of imprecation and vengeance, but no one was to be seen, only ‘Ho! ho! ho!’ resounded from the battlements.  Off they rushed headlong, but the nearest door was in a square tower a good way off, and when they reached it the door defied their efforts of frantic rage, whilst another shower descended on them from above, accompanied by the usual shout.  But while they were dashing off in quest of another entrance they were met by a servant sent to summon them to return home.  Coach and horses were at the door, and Lady Archfield was in haste to get them away, declaring that she should not think their lives safe near that fiendish monster.  Considering that Sedley was nearly twice as big as Peregrine, and Charles a strong well-grown lad, this was a tribute to his preternatural powers.

      Very unwillingly they went, and if Lady Archfield had not kept a strict watch from her coach window, they would certainly have turned back to revenge the pranks played on them.  The last view of them showed Sedley turning round shaking his whip and clenching his teeth in defiance.  Mrs. Woodford was greatly concerned, especially as Peregrine could not be found and did not appear at supper.

      “Had he run away to sea?” the usual course of refractory lads at Portchester, but for so slight a creature only half recovered it did not seem probable.  It was more likely that he had gone home, and that Mrs. Woodford felt as somewhat a mortifying idea.  However, on looking into his chamber, as she sought her own, she beheld him in bed, with his face turned into the pillow, whether asleep or feigning slumber there was no knowing.

      Later, she heard sounds that induced her to go and look at him.  He was starting, moaning, and babbling in his sleep.  But with morning all his old nature seemed to have returned.

      There was a hedgehog in Anne’s bowl of milk, Mrs. Woodford’s poultry were cackling hysterically at an unfortunate kitten suspended from an apple tree and let down and drawn up among them.  The three-legged stool of the old waiting-woman ‘toppled down headlong’ as though by the hands of Puck, and even on Anne’s arms certain black and blue marks of nails were discovered, and when her mother examined her on them she only cried and begged not to be made to answer.

      And while Dr. Woodford was dozing in his chair as usual after the noonday dinner Mrs. Woodford actually detected a hook suspended from a horsehair descending in the direction of his big horn spectacles, and quietly moving across to frustrate the attempt, she unearthed Peregrine on a chair angling from behind the window curtain.

      She did not speak, but fixed her calm eyes on him with a look of sad, grave disappointment as she wound up the line.  In a few seconds the boy had thrown himself at her feet, rolling as if in pain, and sobbing out, “’Tis all of no use!  Let me alone.”

      Nevertheless he obeyed the hushing gesture of her hand, and held his breath, as she led him out to the garden-seat, where they had spent so many happy quiet hours.  Then he flung himself down and repeated his exclamation, half piteous, half defiant.  “Leave me alone!  Leave me alone!  It has me!  It is all of no use.”

      “What has you, my poor child?”

      “The evil spirit.  You will have it that I’m not one of—one of them—so it must be as my father says, that I am possessed—the evil spirit.  I was at peace with you—so happy—happier than ever I was before—and now—those boys.  It has me again—I could not help it—I’ve even hurt her—Mistress Anne.  Let me alone—send me home—to be scorned, and shunned, and brow-beaten—and as bad as ever—then at least she will be safe from me.”

      All this came out between sobs such that Mrs. Woodford could not attempt to speak, but she kept her hand on him, and at last she said, when he could hear her: “Every one of us has to fight with an evil spirit, and when we are not on our guard he is but too apt to take advantage of us.”

      The boy rather sullenly repeated that it was of no use to fight against his.

      “Indeed!  Nay.  Were you ever so much grieved before at having let him have the mastery?”

      “No—but no one ever was good to me before.”

      “Yes; all about you lived under a cruel error, and you helped them in it.  But if you had not a better nature in you, my poor child, you would not be happy here and thankful for what we can do for you.”

      “I was like some one else here,” said Peregrine, picking a daisy to pieces, “but they stirred it all up.  And at home I shall be just the same as ever I was.”

      She longed to tell him that there was hope of a change in his life, but she durst not till it was more certain, so she said—

      “There was One who came to conquer the evil spirit and the evil nature, and to give each one of us the power to get the victory.  The harder the victory, the more glorious!” and her eyes sparkled at the thought.

      He caught a moment’s glow, then fell back.  “For those that are chosen,” he said.

      “You are chosen—you were chosen by your baptism.  You have the stirrings of good within you.  You can win and beat back the evil side of you in Christ’s strength, if you will ask for it, and go on in His might.”

      The boy groaned.  Mrs. Woodford knew that the great point with him would be to teach him to hope and to pray, but the very name of prayer had been rendered so distasteful to him that she scarce durst press the subject by name, and her heart sank at the thought of sending him home again, but she was glad to be interrupted, and said no more.

      At night, however, she heard sounds

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