CHAPTER XXXIII.
STILL AT WORK.
It was in the Spring, after the death of Irene, that Scott one day sought the abode of old Meg. He had some very important business to transact and she was the one who could, and must help him in the matter. He found Meg and Crisp within, and entering the dingy room, Meg greeted him with eager expectation, and her black eyes sparkled as she offered him an old wooden chair. She looked more repulsive than ever, for her broad nose looked still broader, and her wide mouth seemed to grin more fiercely. Scott’s searching eyes took in, at a glance, the filthiness of the place, and the odor of whiskey was offensive in the extreme.
“Sit down,” said Meg. “You want your fortune told again?”
“No. You are in possession of a few facts of which I wish you to inform me, and I will pay you well if you will answer the questions which I ask you.”
“What are they?”
“Will you answer me all you know in regard to a certain matter if I pay you well for it?”
Meg looked at Crisp in a way that said plainly: “Shall I, Crisp?”