"Alive, but terribly hurt," answered his mother, and would have borne her out of the open door of the cottage, towards the latch of which she reached her hand while yet a yard from it. Her action said, "Why WILL Nancy leave the door open!"
"Please, please, what is it?" panted Mercy, standing her ground.
"How is he hurt?"
She turned upon her almost fiercely.
"This is what YOU have done for him!" she said, with right ungenerous reproach. "Your father fired at him, on my son's own land, and shot him in the chest."
"Is he in danger?" gasped Mercy, leaning against the wall, and trembling so she could scarcely stand.
"I fear he is in GREAT danger. If only the doctor would come!"
"You wouldn't mind my sitting in the kitchen till he does?" whispered Mercy, her voice all but gone.
"I could not allow it. I will not connive at your coming here without the knowledge of your parents! It is not at all a proper thing for a young lady to do!"
"Then I will wait outside!" said Mercy, her quick temper waking in spite of her anxiety: she had anticipated coldness, but not treatment like this! "There is one, I think, Mrs. Macruadh," she added, "who will not find fault with me for it!"
"At least he will not tell you so for some time!"