'Not here, then,' said Nanny, with some reluctance. 'It's giving me the willies- Oh no, as if we didn't have enough... What's he doing here?'
Mightily Oats was advancing through the wood. He walked awkwardly, as city people do when traversing real, rutted, leaf-mouldy, twig-strewn soft, and had the concerned look of someone who was expecting to be attacked at any moment by owls or beetles.
In his strange black and white clothing he looked like a human magpie himself.
The magpies screamed from the trees.
' "Seven for a secret never to be told,"' said Agnes.
' "Seven's a devil, his own sel',"' said Nanny darkly. 'You've got your rhyme, I've got mine.'
When Oats saw the witches he brightened up very slightly and blew his nose at them.
'What a waste of skin,' muttered Nanny.
'Ah, Mrs Ogg... and Miss Nitt,' said Oats, inching around some mud. 'Er... I trust I find you well?'
'Up till now,' said Nanny.
'I had, er, hoped to see Mrs Weatherwax.'
For a moment the only sound was the chattering of the ravens.
'Hoped?' said Agnes.
'Mrs Weatherwax?' said Nanny.
'Er, yes. It is part of my... I'm supposed to... one of the things we... Well, I heard she might be ill, and visiting the elderly and infirm is part, er, of our pastoral duties... Of course I realize that technically I have no pastoral duties, but still, while I'm here...'
Nanny's face was a picture, possibly one painted by an artist with a very strange sense of humour.
'I'm really sorry she ain't here,' she said, and Agnes knew she was being altogether honest and absolutely nasty.
'Oh dear. I was, er, going to give her some... I was going... er... Is she well, then?'
'I'm sure she'd be all the better for a visit from you,' said Nanny, and once again there was a strange, curvy sort of truth to this. 'It'd be the sort of thing she'd talk about for days. You can come back any time you want.'
Oats looked helpless. 'Then I suppose I'd better, er, be getting back to my, er, tent,' he said. 'May I accompany you ladies down to the town? There are, er, some dangerous things in the woods...'
' We got broomsticks,' said Nanny firmly. The priest looked crestfallen, and Agnes made a decision.
'A broomstick,' she said. 'I'll walk you-.I mean, you can walk me back. If you like.'
The priest looked relieved. Nanny sniffed. There was a certain Weatherwax quality to the sniff.
'Back at my place, then. An' no dilly-dallyin',' she said.
'I don't dilly-dally,' said Agnes.
'Just see you don't start,' said Nanny, and went to find her broomstick.
Agnes and the priest walked in embarrassed silence for a while. At last Agnes said, 'How's the headache?'
'Oh, much better, thank you. It went away. But her majesty was kind enough to give me some pills anyway.'
'That's nice,' said Agnes. She ought to have given him a needle! Look at the size of that boil! said Perdita, one of nature's born squeezers. Why doesn't he do something about it?
'Er... you don't like me very much, do you?' said Oats.