"You had best give in, sweetheart," he said hoarsely.

"Fire is worse than foes, and it draws near." "I fear it less," she answered.

"Moreover, marriage is worse than either--sometimes." Hugh took counsel with Grey Dick.
"This place will burn like tinder," he said, pointing to the dry reeds which grew thickly all about them, and to the masses of brushwood and other rubbish that had drifted against the side of the little mound in times of flood.

"If the fire reaches us we must perish of flame, or smoke, or both." "Ay," answered Dick, "like old witch Sarah when they burned her in her house.

She screeched a lot, though some say it was her cat that screeched and she died mum." "If we could get into the water now, Dick ?" He shook his ash-hued head.
"The pools are frozen.