The man spoke with a dogged fierceness, bordering on insolence.
Jean stood perfectly still, her head high, as she answered—"Yes."
"Yer can tell him! I'll have nought of he! Had enough o' parsons, and don't want no more. If he'll let me be, I'll let he be. And if so be he comes a-meddling, it'll be the wuss for he! Yer mind! I ain't a-going to stand it!" He stepped forward, and shook a wrathful fist within a yard of Jean's face; yet still she would not quail. "Yer understand? I ain't a-going to stand it!" And an oath followed.
"Hush! You are not to speak so to me,"' said Jean slowly. "I will tell my father what you say. You are at liberty to send a message; but there is no need to be angry."
Barclay's clenched hand dropped. Something in the still face of the girl calmed the wild animal which was uppermost in him. She had marvellous self-control; for no one looking on could have guessed her terror.
"Look 'ere!" He spoke in accents a trifle more subdued. "I means what I says! I don't mean no harm to nobody so as I'm let alone. But I won't be meddled with. Nor I won't be preached at."
"I will give your message, and my father will do what he thinks right. If you have no more to say, will you please let me pass?"
"No: I ain't done yet." A darker expression rolled over his face, and he scowled at Jean. "I ain't done yet. Look 'ere! Yer don't think it, but I means what I says. If you parson comes along a-meddling, it'll be the wuss for he! Tell yer—! I'd heave him over them rocks, as easy—!"
Jean's breath grew quick, and righteous wrath flushed the young face. "Do you know what you are saying?" she broke in. "Do you know that you are threatening murder? And for what? Because my father is kind and good, and will not leave off trying to help you." She grew very white, speaking with passionate earnestness. "I know—I understand—you have lived a miserable life! And when my father would bring you, if he could, a little hope—then you talk of throwing him over the rocks. Is that worthy of a man? At least you could meet kindness by kindness. What do you suppose my father gains by going after you? Nothing!"
"He be the Parson! 'Tis his trade! He be paid for it!"—sullenly.