he managed to put himself between
Mazarine and his wife in such a way as to enrage the old man, who struck
the Chinaman twice savagely across the shoulders with the whip, and then
stamped out of the house, invoking God to punish the rebellious and the
heathen, while Li Choo, shrinking still from the cruel blows, clucked in
his throat. There was something in the sound which belonged to the abyss
dividing the Eastern from the Western races.

That night Louise had refused to go to bed; but at last, fearing
physical force, had obeyed, and had lain with her face to the wall,
close up to it, letting the cold plaster cool her hot palms, for now she
burned with a fire which was consuming the debris of an old life--the
fire of knowledge, for which she had to pay so heavily.

"You couldn't walk even a little of the way to Tralee, could you?" asked
Orlando, when they had reached a shrub-covered hillock.

"No, I couldn't walk it, I'm so shaken. I'm terribly weak; I tremble all
over," she added, as she sat down upon a stone. "But if I don't--if I
don't go back--oh, you know!"

"Yes, I know," answered Orlando. "He's the sort that would horsewhip a
woman."

"He started to do it yesterday," she answered, "but Li Choo came in
time, and he horsewhipped Li Choo instead."

"I wouldn't myself be horsewhipping Chinamen much," said Orlando.
"They're a queer lot."

Suddenly she got to her feet. "I won't stand it. I won't stand it any
longer," she cried. "That is why to-day, although he told me I mustn't
ride, I took that new chestnut, and saddled it and rode--I didn't care
where I rode. I didn't care how fast the horse went. I didn't care what
happened to me. And here I am, and--But oh, I do care what happens to
me!" she added, her voice breaking. "I'm--I'm frightened of him--I'm
frightened, in spite of myself.... He doesn't treat me right," she
added. "And I'm terribly frightened."

She raised her eyes to Orlando's face in the growing dusk--there is no
twilight in that prairie land--and there was that in it which made her
feel that she must not give way any further. In Orlando's veins was
Southern sap, mixed with Northern blood; in Orlando's eyes was a sudden
look belonging to that which defies the law.

"Don't--don't look like that," she exclaimed. "Oh, Orlando!"

Once more he heard her speak his name, and it was like salve to a wound.
He put a hand upon himself. "I'll go to Tralee," he said, "if you don't
mind waiting here alon