Bull Garnet fell back in his saddle. He would rather have met a dozen robbers. By the voice he recognised a man whom he had once well known, and had good cause to know;—through his outrage upon whom, he had left the northern counties; the man whom he had stricken headlong down a coal–shaft, as the leader of rebellion, the night after Pearl was christened, nigh twenty years ago. “Yes, I know you; Jupp your name is. Small credit it is to know you.” “And smarler still to know you, Bull Garnet. Try your pistol thing, if you like. You must have rare stommick, I should think, to be up for another murder.” “Issachar, I am sorry for you. Do you call it a murder to keep such a fellow as you off?” “No, I dunna carl that a murder, because I be arl alive. But I do carl a murder what you did to young Clayton Nowell.” “Fool, what do you know of it? Let go my horse, I say. You know pretty well what _I_ am.” “I know you haʼnʼt much patience, govʼnor, and be arlways in a hurry.” Jupp hesitated, but would not be beaten, whatever might be the end of it. “I am in no hurry now, Jupp; I will listen to all you have to say. But not with your hand on my bridle.” “There goeth free then. Arl knows you be no liar.” “I am glad you remember that, Issachar. Hold the horse, while I get off. Now throw the bridle over that branch, and I will sit down here. Come here into the moonlight, man; and look me in the face. Here is the pistol for you, if you bear me any revenge.” Scarcely knowing what he did, because he had no time to think, Jupp obeyed Bull Garnetʼs orders even to the last—for he took the pistol in his hand, and tried to look straight at his adversary; but his eyes would not co–operate. Then he laid the pistol on the bank; but so that he could reach it. “Issachar Jupp,” said Mr. Garnet, looking at him steadily, and speaking very quietly; “have you any children?” “Only one—a leetle gal, but an oncommon good un.” “How old is she?” “Five year old, plase God, come next Valentineʼs Day.” “Now, when she grows up, and is pure and good, would you like to have her heart broken?” “Iʼd break any coveʼs head as doed it.” “But supposing she were betrayed and ruined, made a plaything, and then thrown away—what would you do then?” “God Almighty knows, man. I canʼt abide to think of it.” “And if the—the man who did it, was the grandson of the man who had ruined your own mother, lied before God in the church to her, and then left her to go to the workhouse, with you his outcast bastard—while he rolled in gold, and laughed at her—what would you do then, Jupp?” “By the God that made me, Iʼd have my revenge, if I went to hell for it.” “I have said enough. Do exactly as you please. Me you cannot help or harm. Death is all I long for—only for my children.”