“Are you no’ coming to your bed, Dawvid? It is time surely.”
Her clasp of his hand loosened as Katie offered the milk to her lips. The old man rose, but he had been sitting in an uneasy posture, and tottered as he moved to the door.
“Grandfather,” said Davie, “lie down on the other side. It will be better for you and grannie too. Come grandfather. Katie, lay the pillow straight.”
“But I might disturb her—and I might fall asleep.”
But he yielded.
“She would like it, grandfather, and we can waken you if you fall asleep.”
So the two old people slumbered together, and Katie had to steal away to weep a few tears in the dark while her brother watched beside them, and they did not dare to ask themselves whether they hoped or feared in the stillness that fell on them.
“They say this is the old squire’s last night,” whispered Davie at last. “I saw Ben coming out as I passed.”
“Maybe no,” said Katie, who was determined to be hopeful to-night. “They have said that before. Maybe he’ll win through this time too.”
“Ay. But he is an old man, and it must come soon.”