"How dare you?" he said. His eyes flashed with anger, and his voice trembled with the intensity of his fury.
Valmai, who was arranging something on the tea-table, sank down on a chair beside it; and Gwen, carrying a slice of toast on a fork, came in to listen. To hear her master speak in such excited tones was an event so unusual as to cause her not only astonishment but pleasure.
Shoni, too, was attracted by the loud tones, and stood blocking up the doorway.
Valmai flung her arms on the table, and leant her head upon them, sobbing quietly.
"Are you not ashamed of yourself?" thundered the old man. "Sitting at my table, sleeping under my roof, and attending my chapel—and all the time to be the vile thing that you are! Dear Uncle John, indeed! what would your dear Uncle John say of you now? You fooled him as you have fooled me. Do you think I can bear you any longer in the house with me?"
There was no answer from Valmai, and the old man, angered by her silence, clutched her by the arm and shook her violently.
"Stop there!" said Shoni, taking a step forward, and thrusting his brawny arm protectingly over the girl's bent head. "Stop there! Use as many bad words as you like, Essec Powell, but if you dare to touch her with a finger, I'll show you who is the real master here."
"She is a deceitful creature, and has brought shame and dishonour on my name!" stammered the old man. "Am I, a minister of religion, any longer to harbour in my house such a huzzy? No; out you go, madam! Not another night under my roof!"
"Will you send her out at this late hour?" said Shoni. "Where is she to go?"
"I don't care where she goes! She has plenty of money—money that ought to belong to me. Let her go where she likes, and let her reap the harvest that her conduct deserves. Remember, when I come back from chapel to-night I will expect the house to be cleared of you."