Page:Joan, the curate.djvu/125

Rh and his young companion had dismounted from their horses and stood inside the porch, they had full opportunity to note the details of one of the most picturesque scenes it was possible to find, while the great bell clanged, and an old woman came slowly forward to receive them.

Anything more peaceful, more homely, more utterly irreconcilable with the notion of lawlessness and nefarious deeds than the room and its occupants presented it was impossible to imagine.

At one end of the vast apartment, which was some forty feet long, and broad and lofty in proportion, a fire was built up on the iron dogs in the great open fireplace; and an iron pot hanging from a crane in the chimney, gave forth a savory smell.

Close by the fire, crouching in the warmest corner of the oak settle, with her back to the light, sat a woman who never turned at the visitors' approach. On the opposite side of the hearth, but well in the corner of the room, another woman, large-boned and gaunt, with gray hair half-hidden by a large mob-cap, sat busy with her spinning-wheel. On his knees