"You will find another will stronger than your own." She laughed. "That can hardly be." "Why do you refuse my guidance?" "I do not want to go with you; I prefer to remain here." "Why so?" She looked down. She could not answer this question. He ought not to have asked it. He should have had the tact to understand the difficulty. But he was blunt of feeling, and he did not. Without more ado, he caught her in his arms and lifted her off the rock. "If I carry you every step of the way," he said, roughly, "I will make you come with me." She twisted herself in his grip; she set her hands against his shoulders and endeavoured to thrust him from her. He threw aside his staff, with an oath, and set his teeth. Her hands were unbandaged. She had not been able to tie them up again, but she held the kerchiefs that had been wrapped round them in her fingers, and now they fell, and in her struggles her hands began to bleed, and the kerchiefs became entangled about his feet, and nigh on tripped him up. "You will try your strength against me--wild cat?" he said. She writhed, and caught at his hands, and endeavoured to unclinch them. She was angry and alarmed. In her alarm and anger she was strong. Moreover, she was a well-knit girl, of splendid constitution, and she battled lustily for her liberty. Anthony Cleverdon found that he had to use his whole strength to hold her. "You are a coward?" she cried, in her passion. "To wrestle with a girl! You are a mean coward! Do you mark me?" she repeated. "On my soul, you are strong!" said he, gasping. "I hate you!" she said, exhausted, and desisting from further effort, which was vain. "Well!" said he, as he set her down, "which is the strongest--your will or mine?" "Our wills have not been tested," she answered, "only our strength; your male muscles and nerves are more powerful than those of a woman. God made them so, alack! That which I knew before, I know now, that a man is stouter than a woman. Boast of that, if you will--but as for our wills!" she shrugged her shoulders, then stooped and recovered her kerchiefs, and began impatiently, to cover her confusion, to re-adjust them about her hands, and to twist them with her teeth. "And you will remain unbent, unbroken--to continue here in the wilderness?" "My will is not to go with you." "Then I use the advantage of my superior strength of nerve and muscle, and make you come along with me." She took a step forward, still biting at the knots, but suddenly desisted, turned her head over her shoulder, and said, sullenly, "Drive--I am your captive." The step she had taken was acknowledgment of defeat. "Come, Urith," said he, picking up his fallen staff, "it was in vain for you to resist me. No one opposes me without having in the end to yield. Tell me the truth--captive--captive if you will, tell me what brought you out on the moor? Was it to see the fires?" "No, I ran away." "Why did you run away?"