“She didn’t lie there long; she wasn’t let to do that. Mr. Tredethlyn
lifted her up by the arm, and set her on her feet, fierce and
savage-like; and when she opened her eyes, and looked about her, all
stupefied and bewildered, he began to talk to her. It was cruel talk to
hear from a father to his child; it was a cruel sight to see her
trembling and shivering, and only held from falling by his hard hand
clenched upon her arm. I tried to interfere between them, Mr. Francis;
but my master let his daughter drop into a chair, and pushed me out of
the room. Me and Jonathan was sleeping in the room over the stables
then, and Mr. Tredethlyn took me by the shoulders, and put me out of the
door that opens from the kitchen into the stone-yard at back. I heard
the door bolted against me, and I knew I could be no help or comfort to
that poor child all night. The door’s thick, but I could just hear Susan
Tredethlyn’s sobs now and then, like as if they’d been blown towards me
on the winds, and her father’s voice speaking loud and stern; I listened
till all seemed quiet, and I was in hopes his heart was softened towards
her. But when I got up at four o’clock next morning--for it was
harvest-time, and we were very busy--Susan Tredethlyn’s room was empty,
and the front door was unlocked and unbolted. She’d run away, Mr.
Francis; she’d let herself out some time in the night, and run away.
There was a little scrap of a shawl she used to wear hanging to the
latch of the door. That was bad news for me to tell my master, Mr.
Francis; but I had to tell it. He turned white, and glared at me for a
minute just like a wild beast, and there was a choking, gurgling kind of
noise in his throat. But he was as quiet after that one minute as if he
had been made of iron. ‘So much the better, Mrs. Dryscoll,’ he said, ‘an
undutiful daughter isn’t worth the meat she eats.’”
“But he went after her,” said Francis; “surely he made some attempt to
bring her back? He didn’t let a poor ignorant girl go out into the world
without a friend--without a sixpence?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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