Mastha Dan was no longer in prison, he had been kidnapped; four men and a boy had taken him by main force; bound hand and foot he had been carried through the mountains to a lonely place; and there at daybreak to-morrow he was to be shot. All this and more, with many details of place and circumstance, Kerry had seen as in a flash of light, just as she was raking the ashes on the fire preparatory to going to bed.
Mona had gone through too much to be within touch of the blind woman's excitement.
"We must not give way to these fancies, Kerry," she said.
"Fancies, mam? Fancies you're saying? Scoffers may mock, but don't you, mam—brought up with my own hand, as the saying is."
"I did not mean to mock, Kerry; but we have so many real troubles that it seems wicked to imagine others—and perhaps a little foolish, too."
At that word the sightless face of Kerry grew to a great gravity.
"Foolish, mam? It is the gift—the gift of the good God. He made me blind, but he gave me the sights. It would have been hard, and maybe a taste cruel, to shut me up in the dark, and every living craythur in the light; but he is a just God and a merciful, as the saying is, and he gave me the gift for recompense."
"My good Kerry, I am so tired to-night, and must go to bed."
"Aw, yes, and well it has sarved me time upon time—"
"We were up before six this morning, Kerry."