hateful voice went on. "They like me, I can tell. I'll stay as long as I want to. And if you try to turn them against me, I'll do the same to you, and I'll win, you know I will."
Suddenly, I was more frightened than angry. She was right. She could turn my uncle and aunt against me easily. She had already begun.
"Why do you hate me so much, Annie? What have I ever done to you?"
She opened her eyes in genuine surprise.
"I don't hate you. Why should I? I don't hate anyone, except for old man Macbean. But you've got what I want, and I want to have it too."
"I haven't got anything. What do you mean?"
"You have, Maggie. You've got a family, food every day, and a decent gown to wear. And there's all that money waiting for you when you go back to Bute."
It was my turn to stare in surprise at her.
"What money? What are you talking about?"
She laughed.
"Don't tell me you don't know! The money Mr. Macbean and the Laird of Keames owed your father. For the drove. I saw the letter."
"Letter?"
"In Macbean's strongbox. It said..." She stopped. "You really don't know, do you?" Her calculating mind was casting around now for an advantage. I could see that she regretted telling me so much.
"You can't stop there." I was too eager in my curiosity, I knew, but I couldn't hold back. "What did the letter say?"
"Oh, I don't remember. Some old thing. It meant nothing to me." She had the upper hand again, and she knew it. "I might tell you, if I think of it. But you'd better watch out, Maggie. You'll be sorry if you try to turn your uncle and aunt against me. I'll make you really, really sorry."
I shivered at the cool menace in her voice. But as she followed me back up the path to the barn, I realized that Annie was using Granny's weapon, trying to exercise power through fear. In the end it hadn't worked for Granny. I took comfort from the hope that it wouldn't work for Annie either.
When we went back into the house with a few eggs held in our aprons, I was surprised to see that Mr. Barbour was still there, and my uncle and Ritchie had not yet gone out to their work. My aunt looked pale and agitated, and Martha and Nanny, sensing the tension in the room, were staring round-eyed from one adult to another. Only Ritchie showed no sign of anxiety. He was sitting with his father's sword across his knee, carefully polishing the shining blade. His mouth was set in a determined line, but excitement danced in his eyes.
"Is this all your household, Hugh?" said Mr. Barbour, looking around at us all.
"There are the two serving men. They're sound. True servants of the Lord and his Covenant."
"You know what a word of betrayal will cost us and the price that is set on James Renwick's head?"
Uncle Blair nodded impatiently.
"Aye, man, of course I do. But what choice do we have? 'Be thou faithful unto death,' saith the Lord, 'and I will give thee a crown of life.'"
"Amen," said Mr. Barbour and Ritchie together.
Uncle Blair glanced up and saw the puzzlement on our three faces.
"Look at you innocents," he said with the gleam of a smile. "There's no help for it now. The truth must be revealed to you of what is to come to this house. And you will delight in it, as I do, for a great servant of the Lord is trusting us with his precious presence. James Renwick himself, a saint touched by the Holy Spirit, has promised to preach on our own moss, and when he comes he will stay with us in this very house. Oh!" He slapped himself on the chest, stood up, and walked around, so deep was his excitement. "This is the Lord's doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes!" He stopped walking, and his voice dropped to a deep, thrilling tone, as if he was delivering a sermon. "Our poor Scotland has been overrun by wicked men, worldly men and the bishops who are their tools. And it is up to us, the faithful few, the godly remnant, to struggle for the pure and holy way, for..." He stopped and looked up. "What's that? Horses outside in the yard? Ritchie, see who it is."
Ritchie dropped the sword with a clatter and sprang to the door.
"Black Cuffs, Father!" he called