"Wait a minute! I'll go first, an' tell Mother Moll you're here."
She crossed the threshold and saw the old woman swaying to and fro in a wooden rocker.
"It air Tessibel, Mother Moll," she said gently. "I want to see what's in the pot."
Mother Moll smiled a withered, joyous smile.
"Come in, my pretty," she clacked. "Yer Moll's allers glad to see yer shinin' eyes. Come in, my love."
Tess advanced into the kitchen.
"That duffer Waldstricker's come along with me," she told her in a low tone.
The old woman struggled to her feet with the aid of her cane. Her watery eyes glared at the tall man in the doorway, and he as angrily stared back at her. The woman hobbled two steps forward.
"If ye've come for me to tell ye somethin', it won't be nothin' very pleasant," she growled at him. "Git me the pot, brat, dear!"
Tessibel went to the grate and lifted the iron kettle from the fire. It was steaming hot, and she brought it over, placing it at the woman's feet.