Iv.] THE WITCHES’ ISLAND. 193

only heard a scuffling, shambling sound, as if people,
neither very young nor agile, were hurrying down
to the sea as fast as they were able. Then there
followed the sound of oars dipped in the water and of
a boat going off.

‘John! John! come to I! again shouted poor
Molly ; but the only reply was a stifled groan, as if
some one was making a violent effort to cry out, but
failing signally from some cause unknown, and then
came a low chuckle as of mocking laughter from the
sea.

Molly stood still and listened in despair. The
sound of the oars grew fainter and fainter—the
laughter ceased—and she could hear nothing but the
heavy, dull beating of the waves, which kept on
breaking upon the beach as if they rather liked the
operation and had no. idea of ever leaving off.
Then Molly returned to her cottage with a heart full
of heaviness, and, sitting down upon the floor, fairly
gave way and burst into a regular good fit of crying.
I do not know—neither did she herself—how long
the good woman continued in this state before she
was aroused by a little tapping noise at the window,
and looking sharply up, saw through her tears a small
bird fluttering outside. Without the delay of a mo-
ment she arose and opened the casement, when a
little sandpiper flew i in and perched at once upon the
table. .

Now Molly Goodchild had always entertained a
friendly feeling towards birds in general, and sand-
pipers in particular. Not that there was anything
especially attractive in these’ birds, but they made

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