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As she spoke she led the way down the stair, through the kitchen, and out into the dark night. I remember the wind blowing my cloak about, but I remember nothing more until I found myself in the winding hazel-walled lane, leading to Umberden Church. My grannie was leading me by one withered hand; in the other she held the lamp, over the flame of which the wind had no power.
A strange sound and again silence followed. Then came a shrill, suppressed scream; and we heard the voice of a girl, crying: "Grannie! grannie! What's the matter with you? Can't you speak to me, grannie? They've smothered my grannie!" Sobs and moans were all we heard now. Peter had taken fright at last, and was busy undoing the rope.
Grannie was wringing her hands as he returned, crying "Kate! Oh, Kate!" and he reproved her for want of trust in Providence. People were now coming in rapidly with terrible stories of damage done by the storm.
Do you think a poor child is going fasting for ever?" "What's that?" shouted the familiar voice again. "Was it herself you were spaking to in the dairy loft, Grannie?" "Who else, man?" said Grannie, and then there was a general tumult. "Aw, the joy! Aw, the delight! Gough bless me, Grannie, I was thinking she was for spaking no more."
"I'll clear you. Grannie has put it on me, and now you put it on me more than ever. It 'll be only a day or two most like that we'll be parted, sweetheart. Only I wish you wouldn't stick to this, Ally. Let me kiss you, and let me feel that you are my own dear love, and I'll work harder than ever to prove that you are innocent as the beautiful dawn that you are like.
"Yes, leave me to myself," said Kate, sipping wearily; and then Grannie went off with the basin in her hand. "Has she taken it?" said some one below. "Look at that, if you plaze," said Grannie in a jubilant tone; and Kate knew that the empty basin was being shown around. Kate lay back on the pillow, listened to the tolling of the bell, and shuddered.
Grannie could hear the sharp ringing sound of some horses' feet as they passed by, carrying their burdens to the different markets. It was long past twelve o'clock. The little kitchen was warm, for the stove had burned merrily all day. Grannie opened the door of the stove now and looked in.
But he did not, and they remained the best of trusting friends. This winter, the wind that drops the ripened fruit not plucked before, blew hard upon old Grannie, who had now passed her hundredth year. For some time Agnes had not been able to do much for her, but another great-grandchild, herself a widow and a mother, was spending the winter with her.
"I don't know what they are doing. But I am sure she will die." "Is she ill?" "She is as white as a sheet, and will not leave her room. Grannie must have frightened her dreadfully. Everybody is frightened at her but me, and I begin to be frightened too. And what will become of auntie then?" "But what can her mother do to her?" "I don't know.
Surely there isn't an epidemic in the square?" "How many have you had, grannie?" "Where? Had what?" "Here, anywhere in the square, grannie." "Had what in the square?" "Rashes." "I! Have a rash in the square!" "Exactly. Have you ever an epidemic, you know?" "I have an epidemic in Berkeley Square? You must be crazy, Hennessey!" "Probably, very likely, grannie. But have you? Tell me quickly!
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