"Damn you!" I panted. "God's curse on you--I'll see you dead--some day!" And then the carriage was gone and I, gasping and trembling, stood appalled at the wild passion of murderous hate that surged within me. And in this awful moment, sick with horrified amaze since I knew myself a murderer in my soul, I was aware that Diana had picked up my new hat whence it had fallen and was tenderly wiping the dust from it. "Why, Peregrine," sighed she reproachfully, "you've had all your curls cut off!" "To the devil with my curls! Come, let us go!" And snatching my hat I clapped it on and led the way across the yard and, heedless of the spectators who gaped and nudged each other, we got into the cart, paid our dues, and drove out into the High Street, nor did we exchange a word until we had left the town behind us; then: "Why are you so frightful angry, Peregrine?" "Ah, why?" I groaned. "What madness was it that would have driven me to murder? Had you but thrown me your knife I should have stabbed him--killed him where he stood--and loved the doing of it. Oh, horrible!" "No, wonderful!" sighed she, laying her hand on my drooping shoulder. "I--I liked you for it! You weren't afraid this time. Did he hurt you?" "Not much." "And he tore your fine new coat--the beast! Never mind, I'll mend it for you to-night, if you like." "I can buy another," said I gloomily. "No, that would be wicked, wasteful extravagance, Peregrine, and I can mend it beautifully." "Very well!" I sighed. "That's three times you fights for me, Peregrine." "And been worsted on each occasion!" said I. "No, you beats Gabbing Dick, remember," said she consolingly, her hand on my shoulder again. "And I--I likes you in your new clothes, though I wish you had your curls back again because--" "How came you at the inn with that man?" I demanded suddenly. "I had been selling my last few baskets." "And he saw you?" "Yes." "And spoke to you?" "Yes." "And he--tried to--kiss you, I suppose?" "Yes--but what's it matter; don't let's talk of it any more, Peregrine." "And did he kiss you--did he?" At this she began to frown. "Did he kiss you, Diana--answer me?" "I'll not!" said she, setting her chin. "Ah, but you shall!" "Oh, but I won't! Who are you to question me so?" "Tell me, or by God I'll make you!" "Ah, don't talk, you couldn't--no, not if--" I seized her, wrenched and swung her down across my knees (careless alike in my sudden frenzy of fallen reins, of danger or death itself) and having her thus helpless, set my hand about her soft, round throat. "By God!" I gasped, "but you shall tell me, Diana; you shall tell me if he dared sully you with his vile touch--speak--speak!" And now as I glared down at her I saw her eyes grow wide and suddenly fearful.