Bess, with a sudden flash of dread, understood the fierce purpose in him, and her terror swept away all other feelings for the instant. She twisted herself round in Dan’s arms and clung to him desperately, looking up into his face. “No, no,” she panted, “hold me, Dan; dear God, don’t let the old man shoot me.” Dan’s arms were fast about her, and he faced his father, who was poking the gun forward and licking his lips. “Odd’s my life, stand aside from the she-dog.” Dan kept his post, feeling the pressure of his wife’s arms and the terror of her appealing face. “Put the gun down, father,” he said. Isaac hesitated. Bess cast a rapid glance at him over her shoulder. “I’ll not tell,” she said. “I’ll not tell.” Dan still held her fast and kept his eyes fixed on his father’s face. “Put the gun down,” he said, with a hoarse oath. Isaac lowered the muzzle and came a step nearer to his son. “Ye great fool,” he said, “will ye trust to a woman’s word!” “I’ll not have ye shoot my wife like a dog,” quoth the younger man, fierce with the pride of ownership. Isaac uncocked the gun and threw it from him with a curse. “As ye will, as ye will,” he said, limping rapidly to and fro in his agitation. “I have heard o’ kings losing their crowns from the curse of a woman’s tongue.” Dan had freed Bess. He sprang forward and picked up the gun. “Ye shall not be doing murder this night, father,” he said. The dawn was creeping up over Pevensel when Isaac, Dan, and Bess came through the woods towards the hamlet. The forest was full of mist and silence, vague and ghostly vapor standing in the glades. The stars sank back as the gray light increased in the vault above. Then came the first whimper of a waking bird, followed as by magic by the shrill piping from a thousand throats. The whole vast wilderness seemed to grow great with sound. The trees stood as though listening, their huge polls shrouded in mysterious vapor. From the east a gradual glory of gold swam up into the heavens, flashing over the misty hills, touching all the dewy greenness of the woods with light. Isaac limped along in front, sniffing the air, and darting rapid glances from side to side. Bess and her husband followed him, the girl white and silent, her black hair in a tangle, her eyes dark with the perilous fortune of the night. She walked wearily, looking neither to the right hand nor the left, but watching old Isaac limping in the van. Dan, dour and sullen, strode at her side, his gun over one shoulder, spade and pick over the other. Not till he reached his own doorway did Isaac turn and face the two who followed him. He gave a fierce glance at Bess, a questioning look at Dan, and, unlocking the door of the cottage, went in without a word. They heard the merry whimpering of the dog, the jingle of money, the sound of the old man rummaging in a cupboard. When he came out again there were pistols in his belt. “Take her home, lad,” he said, curtly.