The man snarled at her in Gaelic, bidding her be silent, but Trehearne shook his head.
"Don't be afraid, grandmere. Why do you say that?"
"From time to time he sends his sons and daughters to us. They eat our food, borrow our horses, and pay us well. Oh, very well! We could not live, if it were not for them." Her white coif bobbed emphatically. "But it is still the devil's money!"
Trehearne laughed. "And do I appear like the devil's son?"
"You are the very breed."
Trehearne bent closer to her and said, "Once my family lived here. Their name was Cahusac."
"Cahusac," she said slowly, and between her gnarled fingers the clicking needles stopped. "Eh, that was long and long ago, and Keregnac has forgotten the Cahusacs. They were driven out...."
"Why?"
"They had an only child, a daughter, who married one of these handsome sons of the Evil One, and...." She paused and looked at him wisely. "But forgive me, my old tongue has not yet learned caution."
Trehearne dropped to one knee beside her, so that he might see her face more clearly. His heart was hammering. "No, no, grandmere! Don't stop—it was to hear these things that I came all the way from America. This daughter of the Cahusacs—she had a child?"