Bess, flashing fierce scorn out of her eyes at Dan, turned on Isaac with rebellious and glowing face. “I’ll not wed Dan,” she said. “No, I’ll have none of him. Press me if you dare.” Grimshaw smiled at her, rubbed his hands together, and nudged Dan with his elbow. The giant made a step towards Bess, grinning through his beard. In an instant the girl had turned and darted towards the stairs, only to find the door closed and old Ursula leaning against it. Trapped, Bess drew herself up and looked at the old woman with wistful anger. “Are you against me, too, mother?” Ursula smiled painfully. “Isaac’s word is law, girl,” she said. “I’ll not marry Dan, no—I hate him. I’ll not be married against my will.” She turned and faced old Grimshaw and his son, her eyes fierce as the eyes of some wild thing caught in a snare. “Dan,” she cried, “will you marry me? Ha, I hate you; I hate your great, ugly face. Will you marry me, I say? You oaf, you great, black, hairy fool, I hate you. Be careful, all of you. I am not to be bought and sold.” The three were silent a moment while Bess stood in the centre of the room, passionately defiant, her fists clinched, her strong chin up. Old Isaac watched her, and still rubbed his hands together. Dan, looking sullen and foolish, fidgeted with his cap, and glanced first at Bess and then at his father. Old Ursula had the corner of her apron between her teeth. She was wavering betwixt greed and love for Bess, her foster-child. Isaac gave his son a sudden, fierce glance and a whispered command. Dan edged across the room towards Bess. In a flash she had picked up a heavy stool, and stood at bay behind the table. “Come at me, Dan,” she cried, “and I’ll kill ye.” There was a sudden squeak from old Ursula. She had flung open the door that closed the stairs, the love in her overmastering the greed for gold. “Bess,” she squealed, “quick, lass, the door’s open. Dan, you great coward, back, keep your hands off her. I’ll have no bullying in my cottage.” Bess had flung the stool at Dan, turned and darted towards Ursula. She kissed the beldam, and fled up the stairs, while the old woman closed the door on her and covered it with her body. “Brother Isaac,” she said, with a certain dignity that became her gray hairs well, “I’ll have no bullying in my cottage. Let Dan win the girl like a man, and not like a coward. You shall not have Bess to-night save over my body.” Dan slunk back behind his father, who was looking at his sister with a peculiar smile. He rubbed his hands together, his white hair falling benignantly about his face. “There, there, dame,” he said, mildly, “don’t put yourself out about the wench. We mean no harm by her, and she shall not be browbeaten. Come, son, you must wait and try what patience will do. Good-night, old lady. Bess can go to sleep in peace.” XI