The Egyptian’s Second Coming 143

“Mr. Dishart gives more than any other man
in Thrums to the poor, and he is not to be
preached to by a gypsy. We are waiting for
you, Nanny.” —

“Ay, I’m coming,” said Nanny, leaving the
Egyptian. “Il hae to gang, lassie. Dinna
Greet for me.’

But the Egyptian said, “No, you are not
going. It is these men who are going. Go,
sits, and leave us.”

“And you will provide for Nanny?” asked
the doctor, contemptuously.

Sroess?

“And where is the siller to come from?”

“That is my affair, and Nanny’s. Begone,
both of you. She shall never want again. See
how the very mention of your going brings back
life to her face.”

“I won’t begone,” the doctor said, roughly,
“till I see the colour of your siller.”

“Oh, the money,” said the Egyptian, scorn-
fully. She put her hand into her pocket confi-
dently, as if used to well-filled purses, but could
only draw out two silver pieces.

“JT had forgotten,” she said aloud, though
speaking to herself.

“TI thought so,” said the cynical doctor.
“Come, Nanny.”

“You presume to doubt me!” the Egyptian
said, blocking his way to the door.

“ How could I presume to believe you?” he
answered. ‘ You are a beggar by profession, and
yet talk as if— pooh, nonsense.”

“TY would live on terrible little,’ Nanny whis-