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@@@@@Colum's outstretched arm halted herHe recognized the cailleach, the wise woman who lived near the towerOne by one the wise woman piled blood-stained towels atop one another until the hole in the window was filled"Light the lamps again," she saidHer voice was hoarse, as if she had rust in her throatShe took off her wet black shawl, folded it neatly, placed it on a chairBeneath it she was wearing a brown shawlThat, too, came off and was folded, put on the chairThen a dark blue one with a hole on one shoulderAnd a red one with more holes than wool"You haven't done as I told you," she scolded ColumThen she walked to the smith and kicked him sharply in the side"You're in the way, smith, go back to your forge She looked at Colum againHe lit a lamp, looked for another, lit it, until a steady flame burned in each"Thank you, Father," she said politely"Send O'Neill home, the storm is passingThen come hold two lamps high by the tableYou," she turned to MrsFitzpatrick, "do the sameI'll ready The O'Hara A cord around her waist held a dozen or more pouches made of different-colored ragsShe reached into one and withdrew a vial of dark liquidLifting Scarlett's head with her left hand, she poured the liquid into her mouth with her rightScarlett's tongue reached out, licked her