"You did it," I retorted.
"It's a lie," he screamed. "You did it, you did it."
It was not the first falsehood he had told by many to get me into trouble. Panting with rage, my stepmother ran back to the house, and returned with a cane she had often used upon me.
"I will punish you for the lie," she said. "How dare you say my darling would do such a cruel thing? You are a disgrace to the name you bear."
She flourished the cane; I stepped back.
"I have told the truth," I said, "and I don't intend to be punished any more by you for faults I do not commit."
"You do not intend!" she answered, advancing towards me. "I will teach you; I will teach you!"
Swish went the cane across my face; only once, for as she was about to repeat the blow I wrested it from her, broke it, and threw it over the garden wall. In a frenzy of ungovernable fury she seized the first weapon that caught her eye—a gardener's spade—and attacked me with it, and at the same moment Louis ran at me with a three-pronged rake. He slipped and fell, and in his fall wounded himself with the prongs. His cries of pain diverted his mother's attention from me; she flung away the spade, and caught him in her arms. Alarmed at the sight of blood dripping from his face I stepped forward to assist her.
"Keep off, you murderer!" she shrieked. "You have killed my boy! You will come to the gallows!"
She flew into the house with Louis, and I saw nothing more of her that day. Louis, as I afterwards learned, kept his room for a week; it was not till months had passed that we met again, and then I noticed a scar on his forehead which I was told he would carry with him to the grave. From that time I was made to feel that I had two bitter enemies in my father's house. Arrangements were made to keep me at school during holidays, and I was not sorry for it. Once a year only was I allowed to visit my home, and then I was shunned; my meals were served to me in a separate room, and not the slightest attention was paid to my wants. I grew to be accustomed to this, and took refuge in study, longing for the day to arrive when I should be free. I recall the conversation which took place on that day between my stepmother and me.