of Bower Ashton, and following straight on led to Dundry, beyond which
was Bishop's Farm.

When Bryda reached the old crooked thorn, which was but scantily covered
with blossoms in its old age, she looked in vain for Betty.

The Bristol bells were ringing for evensong as she was climbing the
hill, and she had quickened her step fearing she might be late.

Bryda sat down to rest on an old milestone which stood close by and
waited, but still no Betty appeared. Presently she was conscious of
footsteps approaching, and turning her head, sprang to her feet to meet,
not Betty, but Mr Bayfield.

'What is the matter, sir, at the farm? Betty sent for me--she is in
great distress--can you tell me?'

'I am come instead of your sister,' Mr Bayfield said, and pitying
Bryda's face of alarm, he said, 'Nothing is wrong. I am only come here
to claim your promise. Easter has come and is nearly gone. I am prepared
to bury the very remembrance of the debt. I am prepared to leave your
grandfather a free man for the rest of his life, and give him a written
pledge of this, if you will consent to be mine.'

Bryda started back. The helplessness of her position came over her.
Alone on that lonely hillside--alone, and with no hope of escape.

'Hearken, fairest and dearest,' Mr Bayfield began, 'I am not one to be
turned from anything I have set my heart on. I _mean_ to have you, and
so,' he said with emphasis, 'you had best come to me graciously.'

'I did _not_ promise,' Bryda said firmly. 'It is cowardly in you, sir,
to try to put me thus in the wrong.'

'Now, now, fair lady, that is going too far. I made certain conditions,
you accepted them. I have been true to my part of the agreement--you
must, nay shall, reward me. I have a horse and gig a little further up
yonder by-road. I shall drive you to Bath, and then I will marry you
to-morrow morning. Come. You shall reign like a queen in my old home,
and I will do all you desire. Come.'

And Mr Bayfield laid a firm hand on Bryda's arm, looking down into her
terror-struck face with eyes in which his determination and his passion
shone almost fiercely.

Bryda did not scream or cry, or even struggle. The spirit that was in
her rose above her fears, and looking steadily at Mr Bayfield she
said,--

'I will not be forced to marry you, sir. Let me go. Every penny of your
claim shall be paid, but I will not marry you.'

A laugh greeted these words, and yet when Bryda said, after a momentary