before they had
brought their accusation, and on that account sympathy ran with the
Squire of Folking. The mayor, therefore, did not dare to give an order
that Caldigate should be removed from off the premises at Puritan
Grange, knowing that he was there in search of a wife who was only
anxious to place herself in his custody.

But nothing was done all that day. About four in the afternoon, while
Caldigate was still there, and at a moment in which poor Hester had been
reduced by the continuance of her efforts to a state of hysterical
prostration, the old man summoned his wife upstairs. She, with a motion
to the cook, who still guarded the stairs, obeyed the order, and for a
moment left her watch.

'You must let her go,' said the old man, with tremulous anxiety, beating
with his fingers on his knees as he spoke. 'You must let her go.'

'No; no!'

'It will kill her.'

'If I let her go, I shall kill her soul,' said the determined woman. 'Is
not her soul more than her body?'

'They will say we--murdered her.'

'Who will say it? And what would that be but the breath of a man? Does
not our Father who is in heaven know that I would die to do her a
service, if the service accorded with His will? Does He not know that I
am cruel to her here in order that she may be saved from eternal----'
She was going to say, in the natural fervour of her speech, 'from
eternal cruelty to come,' but she checked herself. To have admitted that
such a judgment could be worse than just, worse even than merciful,
would be blasphemy to her. 'Oh, He knows! He knows! And if He knows,
what matters what men say that I have done to her.'

'I cannot have it go on like this,' said he, still whispering.

'She will be wearied out, and then we will take her to her bed.'

But Mr. Bolton succeeded in demanding that a telegram should be sent up
to William requesting him to come down to the Grange as early as
possible on the following morning. This was sent, and also a message to
Robert Bolton in Cambridge, telling him that William had been summoned.
During these two days he had not been seen at the Grange, though he knew
much of what was being done there. Had he, however, been aware of all
that his sister and step-mother were enduring, he would probably have
appeared upon the scene. As it was, he had justified his absence by
pleading to himself Mrs. Bolton's personal enmity, and the understanding
which existed that he should not visit the house. Then,