The last time I saw the apparition was on the night of May 10th, 1529, more than three years after my lady’s first coming to Pengersick.  I was prepared for it:  for she had been singing at her window a great part of the afternoon, and I had learnt to be warned by this mood.  The night was a dark one, with flying clouds and a stiff breeze blowing up from the south-east.  The flame left my lady’s window at the usual hour—­a few minutes after midnight—­but returned some while before its due time.  In ordinary it would be away for an hour and a half, or from that to two hours, but this night I had scarcely begun my rounds before I saw it returning across the fields.  Nor was this the only surprise.  For as I watched it up the wall and saw it gain my lady’s window, I heard the hound within lift up its voice in a long, shuddering howl.

I lost no time, but made my way to my Master’s room.  He, too, had heard the dog’s howl, and was strangely perturbed.  “It means something.  It means something,” he kept repeating.  He had already run to his wife’s chamber, but found her in a deep slumber and the hound (which always slept on the floor at her bed’s foot) composing itself to sleep again, with jowl dropped on its fore-paws.

The next morning I had fixed to ride into the Market Jew to fetch a packet of books which was waiting there for my Master.  But at the entrance of the town I found the people in great commotion, the cause of which turned out to be a group of Turk men gathered at the hither end of the causeway leading to the Mount.  One told me they were Moslems (which indeed was apparent at first sight) and that their ship had run ashore that night, under the Mount; but with how much damage was doubtful.  She lay within sight, in a pretty safe position, and not so badly fixed but I guessed the next tide would float her if her bottom were not broken.  The Moslems (nine in all) had rowed ashore in their boat and landed on the causeway; but with what purpose they had no chance to explain:  for the inhabitants, catching sight of their knives and scymeters, could believe in nothing short of an intent to murder and plunder; and taking courage in numbers, had gathered (men and women) to the causeway-head to oppose them.  To be sure these fears had some warrant in the foreigners’ appearance:  who with their turbans, tunics, dark faces and black naked legs made up a show which Market Jew had never known before nor (I dare say) will again.

Nor had the mildness of their address any effect but to raise a fresh commotion.  For, their leader advancing with outstretched hands and making signals that he intended no mischief but rather sued for assistance, at once a cry went up, “The Plague!” “The Plague!” at which I believe the crowd would have scattered like sheep had not a few sturdy volunteers with pikes and boat-hooks forbidden his nearer approach.