IN WHICH THE APPARITION OF MR.

IRONS IS SWALLOWED IN DARKNESS.
''Twas a darkish night--very little moon--and he made us turn off the road, into the moor--black and ugly it looked, stretching away four or five miles, all heath and black peat, stretches of little broken hillocks, and a pool or tarn every now and again.

An' he kept looking back towards the road, and not a word out of him.

Well, I did not like meeting him at all if I could help it, but I was in dread of him; and I thought he might suppose I was plotting mischief if I refused.

So I made up my mind to do as he bid me for the nonce, and then have done with him.
'By this time we were in or about a mile from the road, and we got over a low rising ground, and back nor forward, nor no way could we see anything but the moor; and I stopped all of a sudden, and says I, "We're far enough, I'll go no further." '"Good," says Mr.Archer; "but let's go yonder, where the stones are--we can sit as we talk--for I'm tired." 'There was half-a-dozen white stones there by the side of one of these black tarns.