So off he went; spent and gasping, and stumbling and sobbing with joy, flying for his life out of the terrible bogs.  Then it came over the Moon, she would main like to go with him.  So she pulled and fought as if she were mad, till she fell on her knees, spent with tugging, at the foot of the snag.  And as she lay there, gasping for breath, the black hood fell forward over her head.  So out went the blessed light and back came the darkness, with all its Evil Things, with a screech and a howl.  They came crowding round her, mocking and snatching and beating; shrieking with rage and spite, and swearing and snarling, for they knew her for their old enemy, that drove them back into the corners, and kept them from working their wicked wills.

“Drat thee!” yelled the witch-bodies, “thou ’st spoiled our spells this year agone!”

“And us thou sent’st to brood in the corners!” howled the Bogles.

And all the Things joined in with a great “Ho, ho!” till the very tussocks shook and the water gurgled.  And they began again.

“We’ll poison her—­poison her!” shrieked the witches.

And “Ho, ho!” howled the Things again.

“We’ll smother her—­smother her!” whispered the Crawling Horrors, and twined themselves round her knees.

And “Ho, ho!” mocked the rest of them.

And again they all shouted with spite and ill-will.  And the poor Moon crouched down, and wished she was dead and done with.

And they fought and squabbled what they should do with her, till a pale grey light began to come in the sky; and it drew nigh the dawning.  And when they saw that, they were feared lest they shouldn’t have time to work their will; and they caught hold of her, with horrid bony fingers, and laid her deep in the water at the foot of the snag.  And the Bogles fetched a strange big stone and rolled it on top of her, to keep her from rising.  And they told two of the Will-o-the-wykes to take turns in watching on the black snag, to see that she lay safe and still, and couldn’t get out to spoil their sport.

And there lay the poor Moon, dead and buried in the bog, till some one would set her loose; and who’d know where to look for her.

Well, the days passed, and ’t was the time for the new moon’s coming, and the folk put pennies in their pockets and straws in their caps so as to be ready for her, and looked about, for the Moon was a good friend to the marsh folk, and they were main glad when the dark time was gone, and the paths were safe again, and the Evil Things were driven back by the blessed Light into the darkness and the waterholes.

But days and days passed, and the new Moon never came, and the nights were aye dark, and the Evil Things were worse than ever.  And still the days went on, and the new Moon never came.  Naturally the poor folk were strangely feared and mazed, and a lot of them went to the Wise Woman who dwelt in the old mill, and asked if so be she could find out where the Moon was gone.