idly discussing what
was also on Penhallow's mind. Here he turned on his foster-brother, and
said, "You set that house on fire. I could get out of your mother enough
to make it right to arrest you, but I will not bring her into the matter.
Others suspect you. Now, what have you to say?"

"Say! I didn't do it--that's all. I was in bed."

"Why did you not get up and help?"

"Wasn't any of my business," he replied sulkily. "Everybody in this
town's against me, and now when I've given up drinking, to say I set a
house afire--"

"Well!" said Penhallow, "this is my last word, you may go. I shall not
have you arrested, but I cannot answer for what others may do."

Peter walked away. He had been for several days enough under the
influence of whisky to intensify what were for him normal or at least
habitually indulged characteristics. For them he was only in part
responsible. His mother had spoiled him. He had been as a child the
playmate of his breast-brother until time and change had left him only in
such a relation to Penhallow as would have meant little or nothing to
most men. As a result, out of the Squire's long and indulgent care of a
lad who grew up a very competent carpenter, and gradually more and more
an idle drunkard, Peter had come to overestimate the power of his claim
on Penhallow. What share in his evil qualities his father's drunkenness
had, is in no man's power to say. His desire to revenge the slightest
ill-treatment or the abuse his evil ways earned had the impelling force
of a brute instinct. What he called "getting even" kept him in
difficulties, and when he made things unpleasant or worse for the
offenders, his constant state of induced indifference to consequences
left him careless and satisfied. When there was not enough whisky to be
had, his wild acts of revengeful malice were succeeded by such childlike
terror as Penhallow's words produced. 'The preacher would have him
arrested; the Squire would not interfere. Some day he would get even with
him too!' There was now, however, no recourse but flight. He hastened
home and finding his mother absent searched roughly until by accident as
he let fall her Bible, a bank note dropped out. There were others, some
sixty dollars or more, her meagre savings. He took it all without the
least indecision. At dark after her return he ate the supper she
provided. When she had gone to bed, he packed some clothes in a canvas
bag and went quietly out upon the highway.