She turned furiously upon Gladys, waving aside with a snort of contempt the silver coin which Dangelis, with a vague notion that “typical English beggars” should be cajoled with gifts, sought to press into her hand.
“’Twas to speak a bit of my mind to ’ee, not to beg at your blarsted back door that I did come this fine morning! Us that do travel by night and by day hears precious strange things sometimes. What for, my fine lady, did ye go and swear to policeman Frank, down in Nevilton, that ’twas I took your God-darned pigeons? Your dad may be a swinking magistrate, what can send poor folks to gaol for snaring rabbities, or putting a partridge in the pot to make the cabbage tasty, but what right does that give a hussy like thee to send policeman Frank swearing he’ll lock up old Bessie? It don’t suit wi’ I, this kind of flummery; so I do tell ’ee plain and straight. It don’t suit wi’ I!”
“Come, clear out of this, my good woman!” cried the indignant clergyman, seizing the trembling old creature by the arm.
“Don’t hurt her! Don’t hurt her!” exclaimed Gladys. “She’ll put the evil eye on me. She did it to Nance Purvis and she’s been mad ever since.”
“It’s a lie!” whimpered the old woman, struggling feebly as Clavering pulled her towards the door.
“It’s your own dad and Nance’s dad with their ugly ways what have driven that poor lass moon-crazy. Mark Purvis do whip her with withy sticks—all the country knows it. Darn ’ee, for a black devil’s spawn, and no blessed minister, pulling and harrying an old woman!”
This last ejaculation was addressed to the furious Mr. Clavering, who was now thrusting her by bodily force through the open door. With one final effort Witch-Bessie broke loose from him and turned on the threshold. “Ye shall have the evil eye, since ye’ve called for it,” she shrieked, making a wild gesture in the air, in the direction of the shrinking Ariadne. “And what if I let these two gentlemen know with whom it was ye were out walking the other night? I did see ’ee, and I do know what I did see! I’m a pigeon-stealer am I, ye flaunting flandering Gypoo? Let me tell these dear gentlemen how as—” Her voice died suddenly away in an incoherent splutter, as the vicar of Nevilton, with his hand upon her mouth, swung her out of the door.
Gladys sank down upon a chair pale and trembling.
As soon, however, as the old woman’s departure seemed final, she began to recover her equanimity. She gave vent to a rather forced and uneasy laugh. “Silly old thing!” she exclaimed. “This comes of mother’s getting rid of the dogs. She never used to come here when we had the dogs. They scented her out in a minute. I wish we had them now to let loose at her! They’d make her skip.”