"How did they know _that_?"

"Know what?"

"Why, don't you see? The serpent is one of the Bible words for the devil; here, it is a child of the devil who, coming to the earth, has enveloped the whole world in his toils. The Bible says, I know, somewhere, that those who are not saved by Christ are '_in_ the Wicked one.' How did they know so much, and so little, those old people?"

"Where did you find all those Bible verses just now about the sword, Ditto?"

"References here, Maggie."

"Well, go on, Ditto. There were three children of the devil."

"The third was the G.o.ddess Hel or Hela. She was the G.o.ddess of the lower world, and was half black and half blue. I wonder! that must be where our word 'h.e.l.l' comes from. What dreadful old times! And times now are just as bad, for a great part of the world. The G.o.ddess Hel was very like the horrible Hindoo G.o.ddess Kali, they say here."

"I don't believe those times were so much worse than these times," said Flora.

"You think human sacrifices are a pleasant religious feature?"

"Not to the victims; but I suppose the rest were all accustomed to it, and didn't feel so shocked as you do."

"Landolf seems to have been a good deal shocked."

"Are you going to read us anything more, Ditto, about those queer old G.o.ds?"

"There isn't much more that I need read, Maggie. I have told you about the princ.i.p.al deities. They believed in quant.i.ties of lesser ones--really, personifications of the good and evil powers of nature.

The elves and their king, and the dwarfs living inside the hills. The dwarfs owned the treasures of the mines, and worked in metals and precious stones."

"I should like to believe in elves and fairies," said Flora.

"Why?"

"Oh, it's pretty and poetical. Fairy rings, and all that."

"Would you like to think there were hidden powers in every piece of water, and rock, and hill, which might feel kindly disposed towards you and might not? which might suddenly play you an ill trick and make you most mischievous trouble, for nothing but mischief."

"Did people believe so, Ditto?"

"Certainly. A great many people, in various parts of the world."

"I would rather believe that G.o.d has it all in His hand," said Maggie contentedly.

"So would I, Maggie. And that Jesus has the keys of h.e.l.l and of death."

"I wonder when Fenton will be here," remarked Esther.

"I hope--he won't come--till--Uncle Eden gets here," said Maggie very deliberately.

"Why not?" said Esther sharply.

"He is uneasy," said Maggie, with a corresponding shrug of her shoulders; "I never know what Fenton will take it into his head to do."

"That is a nice way to speak of your brother."

Maggie considered that. "I can't find any nicer," she said at length.

"Then I wouldn't speak at all."

"Never mind," said Flora. "One's brothers are always a mixture of comfort and plague. And that is true of the best of them, Esther; you never know what they will take into their heads to do."

"Oh, Flora!"----Maggie began, and stopped.

"You think there is a difference between brothers and brothers," said Flora laughing. "Well, my experience is what I tell you."

"Ditto," said Maggie suddenly, "are there any such stones as those queer stone-houses in this country?"

"Not that ever I heard of, Maggie. But in the old world, as it is called, there are a great many, scattered over a great many countries.

Not all just like the stone-houses. Some are just single stones set up on end. Some are two laid together, one resting on the other slantwise; the stone-houses in Luneburg seem to have been made of nine stones, one lying on eight."

"Did people offer human sacrifices on all of them?"

"I fancy not. But I believe it is tolerably uncertain. Did you never see a picture of Stonehenge?"

Maggie knew nothing about Stonehenge. Meredith went to the bookcases again and got another volume. This contained many ill.u.s.trations of old stone monuments of various kinds, and he and Maggie were soon absorbed in studying them.

"There!" cried Maggie, as he opened at one of the earliest ill.u.s.trations, "there, Ditto! that is very like--_very_ like--what you read of the stone-houses. Isn't it?"

"Fearfully like," said Meredith. "This is in Ireland. I dare say some of those old Druids sacrificed men on it."

"How could they set it up so? Look, Ditto--the top stone rests just on one point at the lowest end. I should think it would topple down."

"It has stood hundreds of years, Maggie, and will stand for all time--unless an earthquake shakes it down. This dolmen is made of four stones."

"What is a dolmen?"

"This is one. It says here in a note, that the name comes 'from the Celtic word _Daul_, a table, and _Chen_ or _Chaen_, a stone.' A stone table. And it says here that there are probably a hundred of such dolmens in Great Britain and Ireland. How ever did the builders get that enormous block poised on the tips of the other three?"

Slowly and absorbedly the two went on exploring the pages of the book; stopping to read, stopping to talk and discuss the questions of tumuli and stone circles, dolmens and menhirs. The opinion of the author, that the great circles commemorated great battles, and were raised in honour of the dead buried within them, and that many dolmens had a sepulchral character, was somewhat confusing to the Druidical and tragical impressions left from the Saxon chronicle; which, however, at last got an undeniable support. In the stones of Stennis, over which Maggie and Meredith pondered with intense interest, one of the enormous up-standing ma.s.ses has a hole through it. And this stone, there is no doubt, was dedicated to Woden. And so long had the superst.i.tion of Woden's worship clung to it, that until very lately an oath sworn by persons joining their hands through this hole, was reckoned especially sacred; even the courts of law so recognising it. After that, Woden seemed to Maggie to have strong claim to all the upright stones and altar-looking dolmens that are found where the worship of Woden has once prevailed. Leaving Stennis they went on to Runic crosses, German dolmens, and French dolmens, and on and on, from country to country. When at last they lifted up their heads and looked around them, they were alone. The girls had gone off to bed; the worsted work lay, left on the table; the fire was out; the minute-hand pointed to ten o'clock. Meredith and Maggie glanced at each other and smiled.

"We have forgotten ourselves," said he.

"You see, Ditto," said Maggie, "we've been travelling. Oh, I wish I could _see_ the Stones of Stennis, don't you? and the Stone of Woden?"

"Well, now, you had better travel to bed, little one, and forget it all.

Don't see it in your dreams."

CHAPTER VI.