A look of bitter malice broke over the young man's face as he bent it close to her.
"You didn't scream so when the young master took my place the night all this trouble came up. I could tell something of what chanced between your sweetheart and the old man, after he went out with my gun in his hand."
"You know—you can tell? You saw?" whispered the poor girl, rendered hoarse by fear.
"Ah, that makes you whimper, does it? That starts the blood from your white face. Yes, I saw—I saw; and when the courts want to know what I saw they will hear about it. Kicked dogs bite now and then. So don't gather your comely little self into a heap, when I come by again, or my tongue may be loosened. I have kept it between my teeth till now, for the sake of old times, when you were ready to smile when I came and were sorry when I went."
"But we were children then."
"Yes; but when he came with his dainty wooing, some one forgot that she had ever been a child."
"No, no! As a playmate, I liked you. It was when—when—"
"When, having the feelings of a man, I spoke them out, and was treated like a dog. Do not think I will ever forget that. No, never—never, to my dying day."
"Why are you so harsh with me, Richard?" cried the poor girl, now thoroughly terrified. "I never in my whole life have done you harm."
The young man laughed a low, disagreeable laugh.