'Good woman,' cried
Hind, flinging her a crown, 'I am in haste; pray let me pass.' 'Sir,'
answered the witch, 'three days I have awaited your coming. Would you
have me lose my labour now?' And with Hind's assent the sphinx delivered
her message: 'Captain Hind,' said she, 'your life is beset with constant
danger, and since from your birth I have wished you well, my poor skill
has devised a perfect safeguard.' With this she gave him a small box
containing what might have been a sundial or compass. 'Watch this star,'
quoth she, 'and when you know not your road, follow its guidance. Thus
you shall be preserved from every peril for the space of three years.
Thereafter, if you still have faith in my devotion, seek me again, and I
will renew the virtue of the charm.'
Hind took the box joyfully; but when he turned to murmur a word of
gratitude, the witch struck his nag's flanks with a white wand, the
horse leapt vehemently forward, and Hind saw his benefactress no more.
Henceforth, however, a warning voice spoke to him as plainly as did the
demon to Socrates; and had he but obeyed the beldame's admonition, he
might have escaped a violent death. For he passed the last day of the
third year at the siege of Youghal, where; deprived of happy guidance,
he was seriously wounded, and whence he presently regained England to
his own undoing.
So long as he kept to the road, his life was one long comedy. His wit
and address were inexhaustible, and fortune never found him at a loss.
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