"A green and blooming time will surely come," he replied quickly. "It's coming now. I can't let you go, Lucy. It's no use pretending that I mean to let you go. We must twine together...." His looks began to get wild and his voice shook as though he were losing control of himself again. "You know the song: 'Out of her bosom there grew a red rose And out of her lover's a briar, a briar....' But I'm talking nonsense, and frightening you." A scared look came into her eyes. The afternoon was darkening, and it was high time that she should be getting home, if she did not want to be benighted upon the fells. She might lose her way unless she reached the Robber's Rake before dusk. "Good-bye, Joel," she said, her voice trembling, not only with the emotion that the words called up--for she knew that whatever more was said, good-bye must be the last word uttered between them--but she was startled by the fierce face turned upon her. "I told you we could not say it," he muttered. "But we must: we can't do anything else." "Speak the truth, Lucy, do you love Peter or me best?" He took her by the shoulders, so that she must face him. "I loved you first," he cried, "long before he did. You promised yourself to me. He has no right to you." Joel's pent up hatred burst forth. It flowed from his lips like a venomous flood upon the shrinking head of the woman. Deeper than his love for her, so it seemed, ran his hate. "Let me go," said Lucy, "you don't know what you are saying." "Which of us do you love best?" he continued, taking no notice of her attempts to free herself. "If you say Peter, I'll throw you into the beck--its deep enough to drown you. But you love me best. I know it, I've always known it. Be brave, be strong, Lucy. I've got a horse waiting just beyond the dip in the road to take us away. We'll go away now, and before anyone can follow us we shall be on the seas." He drew her along the pack-horse track in the direction that he indicated. She struggled to free herself. She felt all the love which she had for him ooze out of her. His attitude opened her eyes, and she realized, with renewed dread, in what a dangerous position she had placed herself. Her thoughts turned with a frantic rush towards her husband. Oh, if only his face would appear through the gloom.... If only she could hear his kindly voice calling to her.... But Peter was far away by now on the road to London. She was alone. There was no one near, no one who could help her. Joel's handsome countenance was like a nightmare: his fond words, his embraces--the idea of ever having received such expressions of love from him became suddenly repulsive. "Let me be, Joel," she said, "or I'll call out." He did not heed her. "Where shall we go, Lucy," he said, "there's all the world to choose from?" "Go where you like," she replied, "only take your hand off my shoulder."