a single word. A poor, sick, miserable creature—a 'ne'er-do-weel,' as you may call her, I dare say she might be—a poor, half-crazy, homeless beggar; but I guess she was nothing worse. And what power can that poor creature have? If she had any, I think she would have used it to clothe herself and that poor, half-starved child. Should not you?"
"I dinna ken. He said the gals charged it upon her, ony way."
"I don't believe it. But who was the other? You said there were two."
"I guess ye dinna ken o' the ither. It is ane Sarah Osburn. I hae heard tell o' her: she wa' the Widow Prince, a woman o' some substance here once, an' she married her ain farmer mon. He wa' a Redemptioner, I think they ca' them. He an' her sons had trouble atween them, an' he left her, an' she ha' been half dementit ever sin'. I thought sure an' certain she wa' deed long ago; I dinna hear o' her this mony a day; an' noo it turns up she is charged wi' bein' a witch. The gals cry out on her, an' say she is the ane that torments them. I dinna see how it can be—a puir, feckless old bodie; what power ha' she?"
