'
She recovered her sterner mood quickly--
'Not a word, lass,' she said, in her old tone. 'Don't ye try to git
away--they'll _kill_ ye--ye _can't_ do't. Leave a' to me. It won't be,
whatever it is, till two or three o'clock in the morning. I'll ha'e them a'
here long afore; so keep a brave heart--there's a darling.'
I suppose she heard, or fancied she heard, a step approaching, for she
said--
'Hish!'
Her pale wild face vanished, the door shut quickly and softly, and the key
turned again in the lock.
Meg, in her rude way, had spoken softly--almost under her breath; but no
prophecy shrieked by the Pythoness ever thundered so madly in the ears of
the hearer. I dare say that Meg fancied I was marvellously little moved by
her words. I felt my gaze grow intense, and my flesh and bones literally
freeze. She did not know that every word she spoke seemed to burst like a
blaze in my brain. She had delivered her frightful warning, and told
her story coarsely and bluntly, which, in effect, means distinctly and
concisely; and, I dare say, the announcement so made, like a quick bold
incision in surgery, was more tolerable than the slow imperfect mangling,
which falters and recedes and equivocates with torture.
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