"His first duty he owes to me--nay, he owes it to himself, to return from the evil ways in which he has gone. Heaven set him in Hall, and he went against Heaven when he left it; now he is the prodigal that has been among swine, but comes back to his father. That is Scripture--that is the Word of God, and stands before all foolish words said in oath, without weighing what they meant." Fox Crymes caught the bridle, and stayed the horse. "Is this jest, or is it earnest?" he asked, huskily. "It is most serious and solemn earnest," answered the Squire. "Then I insist on a word with thee, and I will hold the bridle till thou dismount. I will not let thee go on till I have spoken alone with thee. Let Bessie go forward, we must say somewhat together." Squire Cleverdon had no whip, but he struck spurs into the flanks of his horse; but Fox held the rein, and, though the beast plunged and kicked out, he would not let it break away. Bessie was almost thrown off, and in her danger threatened to drag her father with her. "Nay, thou shalt not escape me," said Fox. "Dismount, Master Cleverdon, and tell me plainly what this new matter is between thee and thy graceless fool of a son, or I will make the horse fling thee into the mud, and perhaps break thy neck." The old man thought best to comply, and, growling, he dismounted. Then Fox let go his hold of the rein, and bade Bessie ride forward beyond earshot. "What is the meaning of this?" asked Fox, who was livid with rage and mortification, so livid, that the freckles on his face stood out as black spots on the hide of a coach-dog. "It is ill to trifle with me. You arranged all with me. I was to have your daughter, and succeed to Hall, I was to take your name, and step into all the rights forfeited by Anthony. You brought me face to face with Bessie at her aunt's, and then sent me walking back toward Hall with her, to press my case. When all is nearly over, then you turn round, cast me over, and reinstate that son who has maltreated and half-blinded me, and make a mock of me for my pains?" "It is you who have trifled with me," retorted the Squire, with less heat, but more bitterness. "You told me that you would urge my suit with your sister; you brought me weekly accounts of how she was becoming more disposed to think of me, you flattered and encouraged me, and all the while you knew----" "I knew what? I knew nothing, save that you are old, and she young." "That is not it," said the Squire, peevishly, "that is not what I refer to. You knew that she was encouraging my son, and that the old attachment that subsisted before this hateful affair with Urith Malvine had reasserted itself." "It is false," answered Fox, furiously, "not content with making your sport with me, you insult my sister." "I suppose you will not dispute the testimony of my own eyes," sneered old Cleverdon. "And to what do they bear testimony?"