“I tell you Bristow’s mad, and knows not what he’s doing. I cannot and will not remain quiet while this is going on. If you don’t care about interfering I will.” She rushed downstairs; Peace followed. Bessie opened the door of the front parlour, and found the room in the utmost disorder. Chairs were overturned, and the lamp upset and broken. Bristow had his fingers round his wife’s throat, and appeared to be endeavouring to throttle her. “You inhuman monster!” exclaimed Bessie, catching hold of the back part of the collar of the man’s coat, and dragging him back with all her force. “Now, look here, Bristow,” said Peace, “don’t be a fool. You’ve got a good wife, and you don’t know how to treat her. A man’s a coward who lays his hand upon a woman.” “Ish he?” returned the ruffian, turning savagely upon the speaker――“ish he? Then I’ll lay my hands upon a man, that I may teach him to mind his own bushnis.” Having given utterance to these words he sprang upon Peace like a wild beast. The latter deftly slipped out of his grasp, and gave him a push, which sent him sprawling backwards. He rose to his feet, and was about to commence another attack, when Bessie Dalton, who was a lion-hearted little girl, threw herself between the two combatants. “I’m not afraid of you, big as you are,” said Bessie. “So if you want to hit anyone, hit me.” With a look of drunken stupidity Bristow poised himself on his legs, which, to say the least, were particularly shaky at this time, and contemplated the girl with something like admiration. “Thee bee’st a plucky un, thersh no denying that. I don’t want to harm ’ee――――” “I wish I was a big strong man,” exclaimed Bessie, in a spiteful tone. “That’s what I wish.” “And why, my pretty little spitfire?” inquired Bristow. “I’d give you a good thrashing――that’s all.” “Ah! indeed; then I’m glad you’re not.” He flung himself into a chair, and looked the very personification of imbecility. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Bristow; upon my word, you are a disgrace to the neighbourhood.” “Am I?” said the man, with a short jerk of his body, and a stupid nod of his head; “a dishgrace, eh?” “Certainly you are――everybody says so.” “Look here, I aint a-goin’ to stand any o’ your cheek, blow me if I do――no, nor any of your preaching either. What are you, I should like to know?” “A thousand times better than you are!” exclaimed Bessie Dalton. “Ish he?” This was said in a drawling tone and jeering manner. “Yes, he is.” “I’m not so sure about it. Why, Lord love yer, gal, don’t ye know what he ish――_a burglar_! Do ye hear――a burglar!” Had a bomb-shell exploded in the room it could not possibly have caused greater consternation than did this declaration. Peace was pale with rage. “You infamous liar!” he exclaimed, in a voice of concentrated passion, walking up to the speaker, and shaking his fist in his face.