'What are yo' looking at me in that way for?' asked he at last,

daunted and awed by her severe calm. 'If yo' think for to keep me

from going what gait I choose, because she loved yo'--and in my

own house, too, where I never asked yo' to come, yo're mista'en.

It's very hard upon a man that he can't go to the only comfort

left.' Margaret felt that he acknowledged her power. What could she do

next? He had seated himself on a chair, close to the door;

half-conquered, half-resenting; intending to go out as soon as

she left her position, but unwilling to use the violence he had

threatened not five minutes before. Margaret laid her hand on his

arm.

'Come with me,' she said. 'Come and see her!' The voice in which she spoke was very low and solemn; but there

was no fear or doubt expressed in it, either of him or of his

compliance. He sullenly rose up. He stood uncertain, with dogged

irresolution upon his face. She waited him there; quietly and

patiently waited for his time to move. He had a strange pleasure

in making her wait; but at last he moved towards the stairs.

She and he stood by the corpse.

'Her last words to Mary were, "Keep my father fro' drink."' 'It canna hurt her now,' muttered he. 'Nought can hurt her now.'

Then, raising his voice to a wailing cry, he went on: 'We may

quarrel and fall out--we may make peace and be friends--we may

clem to skin and bone--and nought o' all our griefs will ever

touch her more. Hoo's had her portion on 'em. What wi' hard work

first, and sickness at last, hoo's led the life of a dog. And to

die without knowing one good piece o' rejoicing in all her days!

Nay, wench, whatever hoo said, hoo can know nought about it now,

and I mun ha' a sup o' drink just to steady me again sorrow.' 'No,' said Margaret, softening with his softened manner. 'You

shall not. If her life has been what you say, at any rate she did

not fear death as some do. Oh, you should have heard her speak of

the life to come--the life hidden with God, that she is now gone

to.' He shook his head, glancing sideways up at Margaret as he did so.

His pale, haggard face struck her painfully.

'You are sorely tired. Where have you been all day--not at work?' 'Not at work, sure enough,' said he, with a short, grim laugh.

'Not at what you call work. I were at the Committee, till I were

sickened out wi' trying to make fools hear reason. I were fetched

to Boucher's wife afore seven this morning. She's bed-fast, but

she were raving and raging to know where her dunder-headed brute

of a chap was, as if I'd to keep him--as if he were fit to be

ruled by me. The d----d fool, who has put his foot in all our

plans! And I've walked my feet sore wi' going about for to see

men who wouldn't be seen, now the law is raised again us. And I

were sore-hearted, too, which is worse than sore-footed; and if I

did see a friend who ossed to treat me, I never knew hoo lay

a-dying here. Bess, lass, thou'd believe me, thou

wouldst--wouldstn't thou?' turning to the poor dumb form with

wild appeal.




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