“I may want my foes thwacked, and I will!” replied Patience sturdily.
“Look at the people coming up the road,” answered Penuel, thinking it well to make a diversion. “Why, there’s Master Benden and his mistress, and Mistress Hall, and ever so many more. What’s ado, I marvel?”
About a dozen persons comprised the approaching group, which was brought up by a choice assortment of small boys, among whom Penuel’s brothers, Esdras and Silvanus, were conspicuous. Mr Benden walked foremost, holding his wife by her wrist, as if he were afraid of her running away; whilst she went with him as quietly as if she had no such intention. Almost in a line with them was Tabitha Hall, and she was pouring out a torrent of words.
“And you’ll rue it, Edward Benden, you take my word for it! You savage barbarian, to deal thus with a decent woman that never shamed you nor gave you an ill word! Lack-a-day, but I thank all the saints on my bended knees I’m not your wife! I’d—”
“So do I, Mistress!” was Mr Benden’s grim answer.
“I’d make your life a burden to you, if I were! I’d learn you to ill-use a woman! I’d give it you, you white-livered dotipole (cowardly simpleton) of a Pharisee! Never since the world began—”
“Go to!” shrieked the boys behind, in great glee. “Scratch him, Tabby, do!”
Alice never uttered a word, either to her husband or her sister-in-law. She heard it all as though she heard not. Catching the eye of her brother Esdras, Penuel beckoned to him, and that promising youth somewhat reluctantly left the interesting group, and shambled up to his eldest sister at the stile.
“Esdras, what is all this? Do tell me.”
“’Tis Master Benden, a-carrying of his mistress afore the Justices, and Mistress Hall’s a-showing him the good love she bears him for it.”