“I’d wake her if I took it,” she said.
“No, you wouldn’t, I drugged the soup well,” said Pat.
“Well, anyhow, I’ll leave her her dress. There’s nought more but a handkerchief with a bit of lace on it.”
“Take the baby’s shawl,” said Nathaniel, “and let us be off. If the moon goes down we won’t see the track. Here, mother, I’ll help myself to the wrap.”
“No, you won’t,” said the woman. “You don’t touch the babe with the pale face and the smile of Heaven. I’m ready; let’s go.”
The dogs were called, and the entire party strode in single file along a narrow path, which led away in a westerly direction over Peg-Top Moor.