'Oh, Meg! for God's sake, what is it all?'
'I darn't come in. The old un's gone down, and locked the cross-door, and
left me to watch. They think I care nout about ye, no more nor themselves.
I donna know all, but summat more nor her. They tell her nout, she's so
gi'n to drink; they say she's not safe, an' awful quarrelsome. I hear a
deal when fayther and Master Dudley be a-talkin' in the mill. They think,
comin' in an' out, I don't mind; but I put one think an' t'other together.
An' don't ye eat nor drink nout here, Miss; hide away this; it's black
enough, but wholesome anyhow!' and she slipt a piece of a coarse loaf from
under her apron. '_Hide_ it mind. Drink nout but the water in the jug
there--it's clean spring.'
'Oh, Meg! Oh, Meg! I know what you mean,' said I, faintly.
'Ay, Miss, I'm feared they'll try it; they'll try to make away wi' ye
somehow. I'm goin' to your friends arter dark; I darn't try it no sooner.
I'll git awa to Ellerston, to your lady-cousin, and I'll bring 'em back wi'
me in a rin; so keep a good hairt, lass. Meg Hawkes will stan' to ye. Ye
were better to me than fayther and mother, and a';' and she clasped me
round the waist, and buried her head in my dress; 'an I'll gie my life for
ye, darling, and if they hurt ye I'll kill myself.
Pages:
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735