“Nay, sir, I fear you exaggerate our powers and our position. These men do truly show us some respect, in return for my father’s labors among them. But the least thing will turn them from kindness to savagery. And Ann is in that respect but little better than they, I fear.” “She is a most extraordinary woman!” “You may well say that. The more extraordinary, the more one knows of her. She can be as tender as a woman ought to be, as I have proved many a time, when I have besought her kindness for the poor and sick in her neighborhood or in ours. But she can also be as fierce as the fiercest man, as you, sir, have, I believe, already proved.” “Ay, that have I. And truly I think her fierceness is more to be depended on than her kindness. She hates me for having, as she considers, humbled her in the fight t’other day. And I am much inclined to think she would never have suffered me to go forth from the farmhouse alive, had you not most happily come to my rescue.” As he uttered these last words, in a tone which betrayed the depth of his feeling, he was conscious of a tremor which ran through Joan’s arms and communicated a thrill to his own frame. “You now see, sir,” said she, quickly, “that I did well to warn you against accepting her invitation to Rede Hall!” “It was more than I deserved that you should concern yourself with me and my folly!” “Nay, sir, if ’twas a folly, I understand that you felt bound, in the exercise of your duty, to commit it. But now that you have learnt so much of their secrets as you have done to-night, I greatly fear they will make a strong effort to make your knowledge of no avail. It was with that fear in my mind I did suggest we should go by a less direct way than the one by which we came. You must now, sir, take that path to the left, and get down to the marsh, which we must cross on the way to the shore. Where will your boat be in waiting for you?” “Down in a little creek near the cliff’s end. But I will not let you accompany me so far. I am but endangering your safety. Let me descend when we reach the foot of this hill. Trust me, I shall be able to reach the shore without encountering the ‘free-traders.’ And for your kindness I can never sufficiently thank you.” “If you must thank me, sir, I must do something to merit your thanks: I must see you in safety on your own element,” replied Joan, lightly. “What! And then return alone to Hurst? Nay, indeed, Miss Joan, I’ll not suffer that.” “Then, sir, you must pass the night under my father’s roof. He will be pleased to have you. He was abroad when I left home, visiting a sick woman. But he will be home again by this, and will, I am sure, receive you with a hearty greeting.” “You are both all goodness, all kindness. I know not how to thank you!” His voice trembled, and when he had said these words there was silence between them.