then I understood properly that I was going to die.
Pictures kept rising in my mind of all the things that I would never see and feel again. They were small, silly things that I didn't know I'd loved: the yellow irises flowering in the bogs by Loch Quien; Sheba twisting around to lick her back; the geese coming back in the springtime to nest in Scalpsie Bay; the warmth of the summer sun on my face, and then the winter again, with the door closed against the cold night and Tam telling stories by the fire.
How can it all go on without me being there? I thought. How will Blackie and the cottage and the sea exist if I'm not there?
Worst of all, I thought of the man I'd always secretly dreamed of, who I would now never meet, and the baby I would never carry about in my arms.
The sweetness of living pierced me, and a deep, choking sob came up from the depths of my lungs. It was as if I'd been punched in the stomach. I had to gasp for air.
A stinging slap from Granny shocked me into silence.
"Stop sniveling. What good does it do? You're not dead yet. It's not over till it's over."
"It'll be over tomorrow! We'll be dead tomorrow!"
I wanted to slap her back, to claw and bite her, to tell her that this was all her fault with her endless quarreling, but my old fear of her held me back, even then.
"We'll be dead, eh? That's what they say."
Her eyes were darting about the cell as if there was a door she might yet notice that would lead us out to freedom. "That court was a sham. There was no person of authority to condemn us. And all the evidence was malicious lies, as half of them knew."
My heart pounded in a sudden wild flight of hope.
"What do you mean, Granny? They might still put a stop to it?"
"It's possible." She began to march about, her heavy bare feet slapping down on the stone floor. "The sheriff, he won't like things being done behind his back. And that minister man, when he hears about this, he'll be for saving you, anyway. To condemn a girl like that! For nothing! On the say-so of that wicked little thief!"
"Mr. Robertson!" I cried, clutching at the thought. "Yes! He'll find a way. He tried to help us before!"
Shouts came from outside. I could hear the clop of horses' hooves and laughter. I picked up my stool and set it below the window.
"Leave it, Maggie. Don't show your face, for God's sake," Granny said, and I think she was sorry that she'd hit me, because she spoke quite gently.
But I had to see what was happening. I climbed onto the stool and peered out.
"There's four—no, five—pack horses with loads of wood," I told Granny.
"For the burning," she muttered.
I don't think she meant me to hear, but I had.
"For burning us?"
The thought was so terrible that I had to hold the bars with both hands to stop myself from falling off the stool. My eyes were fixed on the bundles of wood. I could imagine them flaring up into flames, hear the crackling, smell the smoke.
"Will it hurt?"
"What?"
"The burning."
"Are you out of your wits? We'll—I'll—be dead by then. They'll have made sure of that on the gallows."
"The hanging, then. Will that hurt?"
"How should I know?" Oddly, I found her exasperation almost comforting. It was familiar, anyway. "I've never been hanged before, so I've no way of telling. If I had, I'd tell you all about it."
She was smiling grimly.
A voice came, louder and clearer than the rest. A man dressed in black with the white collar bands of a minister had stepped up onto the bottom of the market cross and was holding up his hands for silence. I peered at him, but I was sure I had never seen him before.
"Good people of Rothesay!" he began. "We are called here today, in the sight of God, to prepare ourselves with prayer and fasting to cleanse our community of the evil of witchcraft, which has so grievously flourished in our midst."
The other voices had fallen silent. The children were hushed, and people put out their folding stools, settling themselves to listen to the preacher. I didn't dare stay at the window any longer. I was afraid he might point, and they would all turn and stare at me.
I could still hear him clearly, though.
"I say to you all,