“And dunnet ye threep me down. I'll serve ye all out, and soon too.”
Mrs. Garth had now reached the porch. She had by this time forgotten her visit of consolation and the poor invalid, who lay on the bed gazing vacantly at her angry countenance.
“Good evening, Sarah,” cried Liza, with an air of provoking familiarity. “May you live all the days o' your life!”
Mrs. Garth was gone by this time.
Rotha stood perplexed, and looked after her as she disappeared down the lonnin. Liza burst into a prolonged fit of uproarious laughter.
“Hush, Liza; I'm afraid she means mischief.”
“The old witch-wife!” cried Liza. “If tempers were up at the Lion for sale, what a fortune yon woman's would fetch!”
CHAPTER XXII. THE THREATENED OUTLAWRY.
Rotha's apprehension of mischief, either as a result of Mrs. Garth's menace or as having occasioned it, was speedily to find realization.