Americans -- England -- Fiction; West Country (England) -- Fiction
Towards evening, when his wrath had somewhat abated, Mrs. Malherb
told her husband of Norcot's departure--a fact he had
not noticed for himself. She added particulars of his last advice;
and before the moon rose John Lee had passed out of Fox Tor
Farm for ever. With difficulty Beer and Kekewich withstood
their master, for he had rushed among his people with a horsewhip.
"I was her servant, sir, to do her bidding," said Lee quietly;
then he rose from his meal to depart. One ghastly blow he
received across his face; and he clapped his hand to it and went
out, while Kekewich interposed his stunted figure between Malherb
and the groom.
"You've done enough for one day," he said without flinching.
"Best to cool down, else your raging fires will set your brain on
light and cast you into Bedlam."
"'Enough'! Is it enough that a man's daughter----?" began
Malherb. Then he broke off and rolled his eyes upon their
frightened faces until the pallid and rotund orb of Mr. Cockey's
countenance challenged his glance.
"And you, tailor, work as you never worked yet! Let your
trash be done next week, or take it back again."
He quitted the hall abruptly; and for the rest of that dim day
his wife suffered him alone. Her prayers he cried down; her
tears he dried by terror. He ordered her not to weep, and
frightened her into obedience. She believed that he was going
mad and suffered untold dismay until, cast up like a drowned
thing by the waves of his passion, physical nature collapsed and
Malherb slept. Groaning and moaning in the dream scenery
begot of his wild spirit, she left him, crept to the prisoner and
took Grace to her bosom.
For an hour they held mournful discourse, but Annabel did
all the weeping. Her father's temper animated the girl and she
panted with indignation.
"I weary of your tears, dearest mother," she said. "If you
may fetch me some food I should be thankful for it. That smooth
coward to peep into my room! And to tell! I will jump from
my window on to the kind granite sooner than marry him!"
Annabel mourned her daughter's folly; she explained how that
John Lee had been dismissed at a moment's notice; and then,
changing her mood, she talked herself into quite another frame
of mind, and began to upbraid the sinner with all her might.
"'Twas a very unmaidenly thing, and that much I stoutly tell
you. To have an understanding with a man, and one who is
your country's enemy! Your father has destroyed the flag. He
thrust it into the red-hot peat and scorched his own hand badly.
He raved against the very foundations of the earth when he
burnt himself. Like Samson, he would have dragged down the
house if he could. Oh, you are a thorn, not a daughter! He is
breaking his great heart. Treachery is beyond his understanding.
I blush for you, Grace Malherb."
"I wish you would get me some food; I'm starving," said the
girl wearily. "He would not grudge me bread and water."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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