“There, there, there, rest a bit—rest a little bit. Hih! cryin’—well, cry if ye will; but ye’ll ha’ more to thank God than to cry for, if all be as I guess.”
Alice cried on with convulsive sobs, starting every now and then, with a wild glance towards the yard gate, and grasping the old woman’s arm. In a very few minutes this paroxysm subsided, and she wept quietly.
“’Twas you, ma’am, that cried out, I take it—hey? Frightened mayhap?”
“I was—yes—I—I’ll wait a little, and tell you by-and-by—horribly—horribly.”
“Ye needn’t be afeered here, and me beside ye, ma’am, and daylight a-comin’, and I think I could gi’e a sharp guess at the matter. Ye saw her ladyship, I do suppose? The old soger, ma’am—ay, that’s a sight might frighten a body—like a spirit a’most—a great white-faced, blind devil.”
“Who is she? how did she come? She tried to kill me. Oh! Mrs. Tarnley, I’m so terrified!”
And with these words Alice began to cry and tremble afresh.
“Hey! try to kill ye, did she? I’m glad o’ that—right glad o’t; ’twill rid us o’ trouble, ma’am. But la! think o’ that! And did she actually raise her hand to you!”
“Oh yes, Mrs. Tarnley—frightful. I’m saved by a miracle—I don’t know how—the mercy of God only.”
She was clinging to Mrs. Tarnley with a fast and trembling grasp.