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- Джон Бакен
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- Стр. 137/195
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The
truth
penetrated
slowly
to
Reiverslaw
’
s
foggy
brain
,
but
in
the
end
he
saw
it
.
"
God
’
s
curse
on
him
,
but
ye
’
re
maybe
right
.
What
are
ye
ettlin
’
,
sir
?
Gie
me
the
word
and
I
’
ll
come
in
by
and
wring
the
truth
out
o
’
him
wi
’
my
hands
at
his
gutsy
thrapple
.
"
"
Bide
where
you
are
,
and
let
none
leave
this
place
unless
I
bid
you
.
I
will
see
if
I
can
get
justice
done
.
"
But
when
Reiverslaw
opened
the
heavy
door
to
let
him
enter
,
the
first
glance
told
David
that
he
had
come
too
late
.
The
great
empty
place
had
straw
piled
at
one
end
,
and
on
a
barrel
in
the
centre
a
flickering
lantern
.
By
it
,
on
an
upturned
barrow
,
sat
the
pricker
,
a
paper
in
his
hand
and
an
inkhorn
slung
round
his
neck
,
his
face
wearing
a
smirking
satisfaction
.
He
had
once
been
a
schoolmaster
,
and
at
this
moment
he
looked
the
part
again
.
Behind
him
,
sitting
on
kegs
or
squatted
on
the
floor
,
were
a
dozen
men
-
-
Chasehope
at
his
elbow
,
Mirehope
,
the
miller
,
Peter
Pennecuik
,
Nether
Fennan
-
-
David
saw
only
a
few
faces
in
the
dim
light
.
Daft
Gibbie
by
some
means
or
other
had
gained
entrance
,
and
had
perched
himself
in
a
crevice
of
the
wall
,
whence
his
long
shoeless
legs
dangled
over
Chasehope
’
s
head
.
On
the
straw
behind
the
lantern
lay
the
witch
.
Her
grey
hair
had
fallen
round
her
naked
shoulders
,
and
that
and
a
ragged
petticoat
seemed
her
only
covering
.
Even
in
the
mirk
David
could
see
the
cruel
consequences
of
torture
.
Her
feet
were
black
and
swollen
,
and
her
hands
,
with
dislocated
thumbs
,
were
splayed
out
on
the
straw
as
if
they
were
no
longer
parts
of
her
body
.
Her
white
face
was
hideously
discoloured
in
patches
,
and
her
mouth
was
wide
open
,
as
if
there
were
a
tormenting
fire
within
.
She
seemed
delirious
,
for
she
gabbled
and
slavered
uncouthly
to
herself
,
scarcely
moving
her
lips
.
Every
now
and
then
her
thin
breast
was
shaken
with
a
frenzied
shivering
.
At
the
sight
something
gave
in
David
’
s
head
.
He
felt
the
blood
rush
above
his
eyebrows
,
and
a
choking
at
the
back
of
his
throat
.
Always
a
hater
of
cruelty
,
he
had
rarely
seen
its
more
monstrous
forms
,
and
the
spectacle
of
this
broken
woman
awoke
in
him
a
fury
of
remonstrance
.
He
strode
to
the
lantern
and
looked
down
on
her
,
and
then
turned
away
,
for
he
sickened
.
He
saw
the
gimlet
eyes
of
the
pricker
-
-
red
like
a
broody
hen
’
s
-
-
and
behind
him
the
sullen
,
secret
face
of
Chasehope
.
"
What
devil
’
s
prank
have
you
been
at
?
"
he
cried
.
"
Answer
me
,
Ephraim
Caird
.
Who
is
this
mountebank
,
and
what
have
you
done
to
this
unhappy
woman
?
"
"
All
has
been
done
decently
and
in
order
,
"
said
Chasehope
.
"
The
Presbytery
is
resolved
to
free
this
parochine
of
the
sin
of
witchcraft
,
and
this
worthy
man
,
who
has
skill
in
siccan
matters
,
has
been
sent
to
guide
us
.
There
is
a
commission
issued
frae
the
Privy
Council
,
as
ye
may
have
heard
,
to
try
those
that
are
accused
,
but
the
first
needcessity
is
to
find
the
witches
and
exhort
them
to
confession
.
This
woman
,
Elspeth
Todd
,
is
convict
out
o
’
her
ain
mouth
,
and
we
’
ve
gotten
a
memorial
o
’
the
ill
deeds
she
owns
to
.
Word
has
been
dispatched
to
the
Shirra
,
and
the
morn
,
nae
doot
,
he
’
ll
send
and
shift
her
to
Kirk
Aller
.
"
