"I'll hae to gang.... I'm a base woman no' to be mair thankfu' to them
that is so good to me.... I dinna like to prig wi' them to take a
roundabout road, and I'm sair fleid a' the Roods will see me.... If it
could just be said to poor Sanders when he comes back that I died
hurriedly, syne he would be able to haud up his head.... Oh,
mither!... I wish terrible they had come and ta'en me at nicht....
It's a dogcart, and I was praying it micht be a cart, so that they
could cover me wi' straw."
"This is more than I can stand," the doctor cried.
Nanny rose frightened.
"I've tried you, sair," she said, "but, oh, I'm grateful, and I'm
ready now."
They all advanced toward the door without another word, and Nanny even
tried to smile. But in the middle of the floor something came over
her, and she stood there. Gavin took her hand, and it was cold. She
looked from one to the other, her mouth opening and shutting.
"I canna help it," she said.
"It's cruel hard," muttered the doctor. "I knew this woman when she
was a lassie."
The little minister stretched out his hands.
"Have pity on her, O God!" he prayed, with the presumptuousness of
youth.
Nanny heard the words.
"Oh, God," she cried, "you micht!"
God needs no minister to tell Him what to do, but it was His will that
the poorhouse should not have this woman. He made use of a strange
instrument, no other than the Egyptian, who now opened the mudhouse
door.
Chapter Thirteen.