The Lifter sat side-wise,
and began to read _Dick Turpin_. For many minutes the reading
and the stirring went on; when suddenly Roland noticed that the dull
scraping of the 'slice' against the bottom of the pot had ceased.
Turning his head he met the eyes of the old woman; and observed that
they were aflame with a wild sort of light.
'When I hears a chapter from that ere book it makes my blood get
warm, and I thinks I am a young woman again. Attend to your holding,
young man. You see the thread is slipping off your hands.' Roland did
as he was bidden, but he could not help thinking of the marvellous
effect that the story of Turpin's dare-devil deeds had upon her. 'A
fit mother for highwaymen,' he muttered, meditating. At that moment
The Lifter, who happened to raise his eye from the page, cried out:
'Look out, Roland!' Quick as thought our hero sprang to his feet,
but in doing so received a terrible blow on the shoulder. Instantly
he saw that The Lifter's warning had saved his life; and that the
blow which he had received upon the shoulder was aimed at his head.
The hag stood before him with a short iron bar, used as a fire poker,
in her hand; and her eyes blazed with a hate that was devilish to
look upon.
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