The hag wheeled and approached him swiftly, grasping his shoulders and twisting her face into his. She was a horrible thing‚ÅÝ‚Äîfilthy of breath, dirty, with dribbling mouth and red eyes. Her few long black teeth hung loosely like tusks and the folds of fat on her chin curled down on her great neck. Bles shuddered and stepped back.
“Is you afeared, honey?” she whispered.
“No,” he said sturdily.
She chuckled drily. ‚ÄúYes, you is‚ÅÝ‚Äîeverybody‚Äôs ‚Äôfeared of old Elspeth; but she won‚Äôt hurt you‚ÅÝ‚Äîyou‚Äôs got the spell;‚Äù and wheeling again, she was back at the fire.
“But the seed?” he ventured.
She pointed impressively roofward. ‚ÄúThe dark of the moon, boy, the dark of the moon‚ÅÝ‚Äîthe first dark‚ÅÝ‚Äîat midnight.‚Äù Bles could not wring another word from her; nor did the ancient witch, by word or look, again give the slightest indication that she was aware of his presence.
With reluctant farewell, Bles turned home. For a space Zora watched him, and once she started after him, but came slowly back, and sat by the fireplace.
Out of the night came voices and laughter, and the sound of wheels and galloping horses. It was not the soft, rollicking laughter of black men, but the keener, more metallic sound of white men’s cries, and Bles Alwyn paused at the edge of the wood, looked back and hesitated, but decided after a moment to go home and to bed.
Zora, however, leapt to her feet and fled into the night, while the hag screamed after her and cursed. There was tramping of feet on the cabin floor, and loud voices and singing and cursing.