his words. His manner was
cool, but it was noticeable that he had stopped his work and was merely
cutting a piece of wood with his jack-knife. As she looked at him
steadily he whittled the more savagely.

The other man laughed again, and wriggled as he laughed.

"No," she replied, "you can't come, I know; but I can take care of
myself."

"It's a thieving, drunken lot of fellows Saul will fall in with. Ye may
prefer their society to mine, but I'll not risk it."

"I can go to the minister."

"And his wife would make a kitchen-girl of ye, and ye'd run off from her
in a week. If ye'd not stay here, where ye have it all your own way,
it's not long that ye'd put up wi' my lady's fault-finding; and
ministers and their wives isn't much better than other folks--I've told
ye before what I think of that sort of truck."

There was a glitter in her eyes that would have startled him, but he did
not see it. He was looking only at the wood he was cutting, but he never
observed that he was cutting it. After a minute he uttered his
conclusion.

"Ye'll stay wi' me."

"_Stay_ with you," she cried, her breath catching at her words--"for how
long?"

"I don't know." Complete indifference was in his tone. "Till ye're old,
I suppose; for I'm not likely to find a better place for ye."

All the force of her nature was in the words she cast at him.

"_I'll not stay_."

"No?" he sneered in heavy, even irony. "Will ye cry on the neighbours to
fetch ye away?"

She did not need to turn her head to see the wild loneliness of hill and
lake. It was present to her mind as she leaned on the rough wooden
lintel, looking into the shed.

"Or," continued he, "will ye go a-visiting. There's the Indians camping
other side o' the mountain here "--he jerked his head backward to denote
the direction--"and one that came down to the tree-cutting two weeks ago
said there were a couple of wolves on the other hill. I dare say either
Indians or wolves would be quite glad of the _pleasure_ o' your
company."

She raised herself up and seemed suddenly to fill the doorway, so that
both men looked up because much of their light was withdrawn.

"You'd not have dared to speak to me like this while father was alive."

As a matter of fact the accusation was not true. The father's presence
or absence would have made no difference to Bates had he been wrought up
to the same pitch of anger; but neither he nor the girl was in a
condition to know this. He only r