“But you would get others to do it, if you could,” said Rody.
“I need get nobody to do it for me,” said the crone. “I could wither any man, woman, or child, off o' the earth, wid one charm, if I wished.”
“Why don't you wither young Lamh Laudher then?” said Rody.
“If they fight to-morrow,” replied Nell; “mind I say if they do—an' I now tell you they won't—but I say if they do—you'll see he'll go home in the coffin that's made for him—an' I know how that'll happen. Now at eleven we'll meet here if we can to-morrow.”
The two men then slunk out, and with great caution proceeded towards different directions of the town, for Nell had recommended them to keep as much asunder as possible, least their grouping together might expose them to notice. Their place of rendezvous was only resorted to on urgent and necessary occasions.
The next morning, a little after the appointed hour, Nell, Rody, and Nanse McCollum, were sitting in deliberation upon their future plans of life, when he of the red hair entered the cabin.
“Well,” said Nell starting up—“what was done? show me?”
The man produced a dagger slightly stained with blood.
“Damno orrum!” exclaimed the aged fury, “but you've failed—an' all's lost if he beats the black.”
“I did fail,” said the miscreant. “Why, woman if that powerful active fellow had got me in his hands, I'd have tasted the full length of the dagger myself. The d——l's narrow escape I had.”