Sir Jasper’s teeth and his eyeballs flashed horribly in the silver light as he smiled upon Pamela. “You’ll be uncommon grateful to me one day, my pretty little milliner.” “Good Heaven, what do you mean, sir?” “I dare swear you ain’t so far from being grateful now. Oh, aye! ’Tis the regular thing to set up a hullaballoo, but I’m not to be taken in by any tushery, and so I tell you! You may scream till you’re blue, there ain’t a soul on the roads to hear you, and as for kicking, ’tain’t easy on a curricle, so, like a girl of sense let’s pretend you’ve had your vapours, and you and I will have a glorious time together. Why, who was talking of silver feathers? ’Tis golden chains I’ll give you, my splendid child; aye, and a pearl each for your pretty ears--I can’t see ’em under your hat, but I dare swear they’re pretty like the rest--and maybe a diamond brooch for your kerchief. And you shall have a house of your own and a pair of fine London maids to wait on you, and I’ll take you about, my dear, and you will have naught to do in the world but enjoy yourself.” She listened in dead silence till he had finished, and then without condescending to reply to him, turned her head over her shoulder, and hailed the groom. “Job Stallion, Job Stallion,” she said, “your father was reared on my father’s land. Will you see a Kentish girl carried away to perdition against her will, and not lift a finger to save her?” “Job Stallion,” said Sir Jasper, snatching a pistol from the seat beside him, “if you unfold your arms you’re a dead man.” Then Sir Jasper and the yeoman’s daughter stared into each other’s eyes, each drawing long, fierce breaths through dilated nostrils. Suddenly he laughed and dropped the pistol back into its holster. Again he sent his whip circling. The horses broke into a canter on the downward slope, the light-hung vehicle swaying and leaping behind them. The very intensity of their speed saved them from stumbling. At length Pamela said in a low voice: “At least I have a right to know where you are taking me.” “Did I not tell you? To London.” “You do not think I am so simple as to believe you can drive to London with these horses to-night?” “Why, of course not. We’ll stop at Ashford, and get a chaise and four of the best posters money can hire. We’ll be in London to-night, never fear. Hark, there’s nine of the clock striking from Catterford Hill.” He pointed with his whip. Pamela saw the square tower of the little church silver and black against the sky. A lump rose in her throat. For the first and only time that night a burst of hysterical weeping threatened to overwhelm her. “I’m lost,” she said to herself, “if I don’t keep brave. If I don’t keep my head, I’m lost.” No strong soul ever cries vainly on courage. The anguish passed, her spirit rose. “Sir Jasper Standish,” said she, “why are you running away with me? Tell me that.” “Won’t you believe I want to make a lady of you?” “No.”