“Never you mind about law nor nothing,” cried the man, in a strange, strong voice. “I’m not moving out of this public tonight.” The woman turned to the soldiers behind her, and said in a wheedling, sarcastic tone: “Are we going to stand it, boys?—Are we going to be done like this, Sergeant Thomas, by a scoundrel and a bully as has led a life beyond _mention_, in those American mining-camps, and then wants to come back and make havoc of a poor woman’s life and savings, after having left her with a baby in arms to struggle as best she might? It’s a crying shame if nobody will stand up for me—a crying shame—!” The soldiers and the little sergeant were bristling. The woman stooped and rummaged under the counter for a minute. Then, unseen to the man away near the fire, she threw out a plaited grass rope, such as is used for binding bales, and left it lying near the feet of the young soldiers, in the gloom at the back of the bar. Then she rose and fronted the situation. “Come now,” she said to the man, in a reasonable, coldly-coaxing tone, “put your coat on and leave us alone. Be a man, and not worse than a brute of a German. You can get a bed easy enough in St Just, and if you’ve nothing to pay for it sergeant would lend you a couple of shillings, I’m sure he would.” All eyes were fixed on the man. He was looking down at the woman like a creature spell-bound or possessed by some devil’s own intention. “I’ve got money of my own,” he said. “Don’t you be frightened for your money, I’ve plenty of that, for the time.” “Well, then,” she coaxed, in a cold, almost sneering propitiation, “put your coat on and go where you’re wanted—be a _man_, not a brute of a German.” She had drawn quite near to him, in her challenging coaxing intentness. He looked down at her with his bewitched face. “No, I shan’t,” he said. “I shan’t do no such thing. _You’ll_ put me up for tonight.” “Shall I!” she cried. And suddenly she flung her arms round him, hung on to him with all her powerful weight, calling to the soldiers: “Get the rope, boys, and fasten him up. Alfred—John, quick now—” The man reared, looked round with maddened eyes, and heaved his powerful body. But the woman was powerful also, and very heavy, and was clenched with the determination of death. Her face, with its exulting, horribly vindictive look, was turned up to him from his own breast; he reached back his head frantically, to get away from it. Meanwhile the young soldiers, after having watched this frightful Laocoon swaying for a moment, stirred, and the malicious one darted swiftly with the rope. It was tangled a little. “Give me the end here,” cried the sergeant. Meanwhile the big man heaved and struggled, swung the woman round against the seat and the table, in his convulsive effort to get free. But she pinned down his arms like a cuttlefish wreathed heavily upon him. And he heaved and swayed, and they crashed about the room, the soldiers hopping, the furniture bumping.