The Betrayal of Maggie Blair - By Elizabeth Laird Page 0,17

trees.

My knees had turned to water at the sight of the approaching crowd. My confidence vanished, and I wished I'd run when I'd had the chance. It was too late now.

Granny arrived up from the shore. She hadn't noticed the crowd coming ever closer down the path. She pushed past me into the cottage, tipped out the contents of her apron on to the table, and dusted the sand off her hands. I found my voice at last.

"Granny! Tam was here! He said—they're—it's—" was all I could say.

"What the matter with you?" She scowled at me. "You've gone white. You're not falling into another fit, are you?"

She heard the sound of voices then and came back to the cottage door, shading her eyes to look up the road.

"They'll be on the way to Macbean's for something or other," she said, but I heard uncertainty in her voice.

"No, Granny! They're coming here! To arrest you—to arrest us! Tam said."

They were close now. I could see Mr. Robertson in front, carrying a Bible, and Mr. Macbean beside him, slapping at his thigh eagerly with his riding whip. But what scared me most was the sight of two soldiers, sheriff's men from Rothesay, and a raggle-taggle crowd of loons and loafers, who had thought it worth the five-mile walk to see an old woman dragged from her home.

We could do nothing but wait and watch them come.

They crowded into our little room, filling it entirely. I saw them look around avidly, though goodness knows what they expected to see—instruments of some kind to make magic, herbs drying for potions—the Devil himself, perhaps, with his fiery eyes.

"Mistress Elspeth," Mr. Robertson said, with the utmost solemnity, "you are to come with us to Rothesay, to answer charges of malefice, casting spells, and using witchcraft, and you will be tried by a court assembled for the purpose."

Granny swayed, and I was afraid she would fall. I think she saw at that moment that the greatest battle of her life was about to begin.

Mr. Robertson paused and cast a sideways look at Mr. Macbean.

"If you are free of guilt, as you may well be, you have nothing to fear. The court will find out the truth."

"And if you take me away," said Granny, recovering herself at once, "who is to care for my granddaughter? And my cow?"

"Surely Maggie's old enough to look after herself?" Mr. Robertson looked at me, his face suddenly anxious. "You have turned sixteen, Maggie, have you not?"

"And I'll make sure that the cow and the land are properly cared for," Mr. Macbean broke in, too eagerly. "Leave that to me."

"Now, there's a surprise!" one of the hangers-on called out from by the door. "It's not your place yet, Macbean!"

Most of them laughed, but Mr. Macbean scowled.

I was seized with panic.

"You can't take her! She's done nothing! She never hurt Ebenezer or anyone else. Leave her alone! Take your hands off her!"

One of the soldiers had already grasped Granny by the arms, and I could see that he was going to drag her out of the cottage. I threw myself at him, trying to beat him away.

"Ouch! Little viper," he said, panting. "Shouldn't we arrest her too, Mr. Robertson? She'll have taken the evil from the old woman."

"Go on, then! Why don't you?" I yelled at him, suddenly reckless with anger.

"Stop that, Maggie!"

Granny put all the fear and anger she was feeling into the command. I automatically obeyed her.

"Let me go!" she said, turning such a glare on the soldier holding her that he dropped her arm and stepped back in a hurry, knocking her stool over in his panic.

"I'll come with you, Mr. Robertson. You don't have to use violence on me." She wiped the touch of the man off her, and in spite of her dirty, ragged dress and the roughness of her uncombed hair, she looked as magnificent as a queen conferring a favor.

The crowd began to back out of the cottage, thinking that there was no more to be seen inside. I could see Mr. Macbean looking around, assessing the place. He seemed disappointed at the sight of the daylight coming through the holes in the roof, and the beams so powdery with rot that they barely held it up.

"That's right," Granny spat at him. "Take a good look. You've wanted it long enough. But you'll not enjoy it, John Macbean. I'll see to that."

Before anyone could stop her, she had pushed him aside and was kneeling down on the