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Have you seen Glossin? 'No, replied Meg Merrilies; 'you've missed your blow, ye blood-spiller! and ye have nothing to expect from the tempter. 'Hagel! exclaimed the ruffian, 'if I had him but by the throat! And what am I to do then? 'Do? answered the gipsy; 'die like a man, or be hanged like a dog! 'Hanged, ye hag of Satan! The hemp's not sown that shall hang me.
Have you seen Glossin?" "No," replied Meg Merrilies. "you've missed your blow, ye blood-spiller! and ye have nothing to expect from the tempter." "Hagel!" exclaimed the ruffian, "if I had him but by the throat!-and what am I to do then?" "Do?" answered the gipsy; "die like a man, or be hanged like a dog!" "Hanged, ye hag of Satan!-the hemp's not sown that shall hang me."
Safe out of the border now and at home, she could look back clearly. Still all was not clear and never would be. She saw Kells the ruthless bandit, the organizer, the planner, and the blood-spiller. He ought have no place in a good woman's memory. Yet he had. She never condoned one of his deeds or even his intentions.
It was the red thread of life and love, blood-color blood-maker, blood-spiller, heart-quickener, heart-sickener, the red thread of romance, of motherhood and of lust, birth and murder, family and bawdry. In the tapestry her heart was entire, her eyes upon her faithless husband. On the other side her eyes faced the other knight; her heartstrings ran out to his. She laughed harshly at the vision.
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