as aware that her husband's sons were in the house.

They had agreed as to what should be done, and at once made their way up
into the hall. 'William, you will make them let me go. You will make
them let me go,' said Hester, rushing at once to the elder of the two,
and holding out her baby as though for him to take. She was now in a
state so excited, so nervous, so nearly hysterical, that she was hardly
able to control herself. 'You will not let them kill me, William,--me
and my baby.' He kissed her and said a kind word or two, and then,
inquiring after his father, passed on up-stairs. Then Mrs. Bolton
followed him, leaving Robert in the hall with Hester. 'I know that you
have turned against me,' said Hester.

'Indeed no. I have never turned against you. I have thought that you
would be better here than at Folking for the present.'

'That is being against me. A woman should be with her husband. You told
them to do this. And they have nearly killed me,--me and my baby.'

In the meantime William Bolton up-stairs was very decided in his opinion
that they must at once allow Caldigate to take her back to Folking. She
had, as he said, proved herself to be too strong for them. The
experiment had been tried and had failed. No doubt it would be
better,--so he thought,--that she should remain for the present at the
Grange; so much better that a certain show of force had been justified.
But as things were going, no further force would be justified. She had
proved her power, and must be allowed to go. Mrs. Bolton, however, would
not even yet acknowledge that she was beaten. In a few more hours, she
thought, Hester would allow herself to be taken to her bed, and then all
might be well. But she could not stand against the combined force of her
husband and his two sons; and so it was decided that the front door
should be opened for the prisoner, and that the chains should be removed
from the gate. 'I should be afraid of the people,' William Bolton said
to his father.

It was not till this decision had been given that Mrs. Bolton felt that
the struggle of the last three days had been too much for her. Now, at
last, she threw herself upon her bed, weeping bitter tears, tears of a
broken spirit, and there she lay prostrate with fatigue and misery. Nor
would she go down to say a word of farewell. How could she say adieu to
her daughter, leaving her house in such circumstances 'I will give her
your love,' said William Bolton.

'Say n