“I hain’t forgot the bullet in my arm,” said Crisp, grinding his teeth together.
“Nor I, and if I get good pay I mean to tell the whole story.”
“Good! Let the lawyer know what a devil she is, anyway,” said Crisp.
“I wonder if she told the truth about Zula?”
“I s’pose she did, but if she don’t do anything for us it don’t make any difference whether Zula is dead or not.”
“No, but I’ll let her know how I pay her for her meanness. What would she have been”—and old Meg rose to her feet, trembling with rage—“tell me what would she have been if it had not been for Meg’s cunning? Ah, ha! I’ll teach her, and I’ll show her that old Meg’s revenge ends only at the grave. They promised me gold when I agreed to do all their devilish work for them, and they have failed, but old Meg’s oath still lives.”
“Well, what do you mean to do?” Crisp asked.
“I mean first to get what I can from that lawyer. He has promised to give me a good sum if I tell him the whole story. He wants to find his wife, I suppose, but I want to tell him just where she sprung from, and when he finds her and she goes back, if she ever does, she’ll know that old Meg didn’t break her oath. She knows that I swore to get even with John, if he didn’t live up to his promise, and, Crisp, I mean to do it if I die. He can’t be a fine gentleman, with the 302 money that I got for him, if he don’t give me my share. He will find that the old gypsy can put a curse on him that will last a lifetime.”
Old Meg lit her pipe and placing one hand under her chin she formed about as disgusting a picture as one could imagine.
“Crisp,” she said, while her face took on a still more intense look of hatred, “I could kill that jade, to think that she can be a lady through my managing and me a beggar. I hate her, and I could grind her to powder.”