"Why, as to that," quoth the Tanner, "'tis but you says so! As to me I
think what I will, and I do think--"
But here Lobkyn started up and seized the great club; quoth he:
"Hark and mark,
Heard ye nought there i' the dark?"
"Not I!" answered Will.
"Methought I heard an owl hoot," said Jocelyn.
"Aye," nodded Lobkyn:
"Aye, Fool, and yet this owl I 'll swear,
Hath ne'er a feather anywhere.
This owl hath ne'er a wing to fly,
But goes afoot like thou and I.
Now mark,
And hark!"
Hereupon the Dwarf laid finger to lip and uttered an owl-cry so dismal,
so tremulous and withal so true to nature that it was wonder to hear.
Instantly, from the dimness beyond the cavern-mouth, the cry was repeated,
and presently was heard a panting and 'plaining, a snuffling and a
shuffling, and into the light of the fire hobbled the old Witch. Beholding
Jocelyn sitting cross-legged on his couch of fern, she paused and, leaning
on her crooked stick, viewed him with her wise, old eyes.
"Aha, Motley!" she croaked.
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