you some breeks in place of your skirts, you could maybe get off the island on a fishing boat, or—"
"Get away with you, you old fool," said Tam, tugging at her arm. "Do you think I've gone to all the trouble of pouring good whiskey down that idiot Donnie's throat for nothing?"
"Not for nothing! For Maggie!"
She had seized his arm in turn and was shaking him.
"Listen, Tam. I'm right. You know I am. Maggie can get away. You can think of how to do it. It's me they really hate. I'm the one they want. And you know what? I don't care anymore. I'm an old woman. My hips hurt. It's a quick death on the gallows. I'm not afraid of dying. Heaven or Hell, God will judge me. And I'll have the satisfaction of knowing they've all damned themselves for condemning me. All I want—all I want—is for Maggie to live! Do you hear me? Maggie must live!"
Outside there was a burst of noise from the tavern as someone opened the door. It died away as the door was closed again.
"For God's sake, Tam, will you get her away from here before it's too late!"
She let go of Tam, who stood nursing his bruised arm, an aggrieved look on his face.
"You were always an awkward old cuss, Elspeth Wylie," he said, sounding like a sulky child. "I thought you'd be grateful."
"Oh, Tam!" Her anger dropped off her like a cloak. "If you only knew! And I'd be even more grateful if you'd just get going and take her to safety."
I'm ashamed to say that I was so desperate to get out of that awful tolbooth that I didn't try to make Granny change her mind. In any case, I knew, in my heart of hearts, that she was right. Tam knew it too.
"I'll not see you again then, this side of death," he said, tears in his voice.
She ignored him and fixed me with an urgent look.
"Go to Kilmacolm, Maggie. Go to your uncle Blair's home there. It's called Ladymuir. You heard your father speak of it. Hugh Blair is your father's brother—who else should care for you?"
"I don't know how to get there!" I could hear my voice rising in a wail. "I don't know where it is! How am I going to manage on my own?"
"Stop all that I can't, I don't," she snapped. "Feebleness, Maggie. Your great fault. Learn to master it. Anyway, I've shown you often enough. You know the peak of Misty Law you can see from Rothesay Bay, over on the mainland to the east? Kilmacolm's right to the other side of it. Now get going. Get on!"
"Oh, Granny!"
I ran to her and hugged her. I couldn't help myself. Granny had never been one for love and affection, and I'd hardly ever dared do such a thing before. As usual, she pushed me away. And then I felt her hand on my head. It was trembling. And she said, "I've not done much for you, Maggie, but I'll give you all I've got. My blessing." And she shut her eyes and intoned, in the voice she used for spells, "I will put an enchantment on the eye, from the bosom of Peter and Paul. The one best enchantment under the sun that will come from Heaven to earth." Then, in her ordinary voice, she said, "Is that bread and cheese that drunken fool's lying on top of? Give it to me before you go. The sides of my stomach are sticking together."
Chapter 11
We were out of the tolbooth only just in time. The tavern door opened as we reached the bottom of the steps, and people began lurching out into the half light of the May night.
"Oh, look at that now. Oh, we're in trouble!" Tam said, and I could see he was about to panic and have us both caught.
Act. Don't be feeble! I heard Granny say in my head, so I gave Tam a shove in the back and said, "Go on. Join them. I'll be all right. Just act drunk like the rest of them."
He didn't need telling. The fresh air had turned the whiskey in him, and he was half out of his head, anyway. Obediently, he staggered off to join the crowd.
I slipped around the corner into a dark back lane, and then I began to run, the ground flying away beneath my feet. Like an animal freed from a trap, I went the only way I knew—home,