When they were both in the stable,—for she had followed him to show him how little fear she entertained,—then he addressed her in an altered tone. 'You do not intend to leave me?' 'No; if you desire me to remain, I will remain.' 'I do desire it. I could not endure that you should go.' 'That is right; but why did you threaten me? I will stay. I could not put up old Jewel in the windmill, and I haven't been invited to Crumbland by Mark Runham.' He stamped his foot impatiently and set his teeth. 'Why do you speak of him again?' 'Speech is free here—in the van—in a king's palace—everywhere save a gaol. I will speak of any one I choose, at any time, before any one, and in any place I like.' 'Why did you go with him today?' 'Because I am free to go where I choose, and with whom I choose. This is Sunday, and a holiday.' 'Yes; but if you have any regard for me, do not go with him at all.' He drew a long breath, removed and put on again his broad-brimmed hat. 'Why do you speak to me of payment for the trifling things I have done for you? of payment with warming-pans, red waistcoats, and fish-glue?' 'I am glad we are round to that point again,' said Zita, 'for speak of that I must. No one can be expected to do things for nothing. If you house me and Jewel, and feed us both'— 'You have worked—you have done more than that beldame Leehanna and the girl would do in twenty years.' 'I have taken that into account. I know how many hours I have worked at fivepence three-farthings (needles and thread included). Nevertheless, the balance is against me. There is the warming-pan, or the scrubbing-brushes, or the fish-glue'— He struck his fist against the stable door to drown her words. Zita put her hand on his arm. 'It is of no good your acting the fool,' she said. 'What is right is right. I shouldn't feel square in my insides if the account were not balanced. My dear father was mighty particular on that score. Every night we balanced our accounts as true as any banker, with a stump of a pencil as he sucked. If I don't balance I can't sleep. I'll put to my account some pins I had set to yours, all because of that squinch of the wrist you gave me. If I were to leave your house to-morrow, Master Drownlands, you'd find on the shelf in my room a row of articles that I reckoned up would belong in rights to you as balancing our account.' He did not answer. He thrust his horse into a stall and put a halter round its head. Then Zita went to the corn-chest and brought out a feed. The horse whinnied as he sniffed the oats. Drownlands was in the stall tightening the knot at the end of the halter. As Zita turned to depart, after having tossed the oats into the manger, he came out after her, and, laying hold of one side of the corn-measure, said— 'Are you going?' 'Yes. I have fed Pepper.'