"That's nother here nor theer. We mun fa' out about owt or nowt. An' yo' mun beat me wi' a pickin' rod till aw'm black an' blue, or drag me through th' mill dam, or put me into th' sizin' tub, or do owt yo' like 'at 'll leave a mark on me 'at aw can show at th' 'Moorcock.' Then aw off to Ephraim an' mak' it out 'at aw'll ha' yo'r lives to pay yo aat. Yo' see, if Eph. thinks aw'm on his side he'll happen oppen aat to me more nor he has done, an' forewarned's forearmed. If we nobbut knew aforehand what he's up to we can tak' steps accordingly. But th' main thing is to mak' him believe aw'm just as set agen yo' as he is hissen. Aw think it'll have to be th' mill dam. What sayn yo'?" "Well, I for one am not going to beat you black and blue, nor yet drag you through the mill dam. But I quite think it will do no harm for you to make Ephraim and his new mates think we're on bad terms. So be off these premises"--this with a very menacing tone "be off these premises, you idle, skulking blackguard. Get you out of sight of honest men and go to the scum you're fit for, or I'll souse you over head in th' sizing tub." Daft Billy rose hurriedly to his feet, raised one arm as to ward off a blow, clenched his right fist ready for a fray, and eyed me with mingled amaze and indignation. Then a broad grin spread across his features, and he slowly winked first one eye, then the other: "Tha'lt do, lad; tha'lt do. Aw'm off, and tha'rt noan sich a fooil as aw thowt thee." And he lumbered heavily away, chuckling audibly. I confess I did not attach to the warnings of Daft Billy the importance that subsequent events were to demonstrate in a terrible and tragic manner they deserved. For one thing, I did not know Ephraim Sykes as Daft Billy did. I knew him to be a reckless, lawless sort of fellow, but thought that poaching and an occasional brawl were the limits beyond which even his ungoverned temper would not lead him. Nor, for another thing, had my experience of life and human nature then taught me what devastating havoc can be wrought in the heart of man by thwarted passion, its fires fed by strong drink. "Hell," says the proverb, "has no fury like a woman scorned," and I suppose a man who sees the woman he has for years looked upon as his own and whom after his wild and fiery fashion he loves, give the treasures of her young love to another, is in like case to a woman scorned. And, for yet another thing, was there not the entrancing thought that Miriam was to be at the special service at Wrigley Mill, the honoured guest of Mr. and Mrs. Wrigley.