She told them to go to
their master and tell him that she did not want his house, and that he
could live in it himself, if he chose--that she was going in the cart to
Killimontrick, and she would take lodgings in the inn there until she
could get a house fit for the habitation of the mother of a man like her
son Andy; and that if their master had anything to say about the rent
that was due, they could tell him that he had satisfied himself by
turning her out of her home, and if he wanted anything more, he could
whistle for it, or, if he didn't choose to do that, he could send his
factor to whistle for it in the main street of Killimontrick.
"Come, Sawney boy, put my two bundles in the cart, and then help me in.
The gentleman will drive, and I'll sit on the seat beside him, and you
can sit behind in the straw, and--you're sure it's two pounds a week,
sir?" she said to the traveller, who told her that she was right, and
then she continued to Sawney, "I'll make your mother a present which will
help the poor old thing through the winter, and I'm sure she needs it."
With a heavier load than he had brought, the pony's head was turned
homeward, and the cart rattled away over the rough stones, and splashed
through the water on the roadway, and in the dark cloud which hung over
the highest mountain beyond the moor, there came a little glint of
lighter sky, as if some lustre from the Incas' gold had penetrated even
into this gloomy region.
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