"There, don't stand staring like that, but do as I tell you," interrupted the fisherman; "I won't have 'em go sneaking off to bed just as I come home. I heard that little 'un say one day she was afraid of me sometimes. Afraid, indeed; I'll teach her to be afraid," he repeated, working himself into a passion over some maudlin recollection of the children's talk in the summer-time.
His wife saw it would be of no use reasoning with him in his present mood, and so went to rouse the children without further parley. They were not asleep, and so were prepared for the summons, as they had overheard what had been said.
"Oh mammy, must I come?" said Tiny, her teeth chattering with fear, as she slipped out of bed.
"Don't be afraid, deary—don't let him see you're frightened," whispered Mrs. Coomber; "slip your clothes on as quick as you can, and come and sing 'Star of Peace' to him; then he'll drop off to sleep, and you can come to bed again."
"I will—I will try," said the child, trying to force back her tears and speak bravely. But in spite of all her efforts to be brave, and not look as though she was frightened, she crept into the kitchen looking cowed and half-bewildered with terror, and before she could utter a word of her song, Coomber pounced upon her.
"What do yer look like that for?" he demanded; "what business have you to be frightened of me?"
Tiny turned her white face towards him, and ventured to look up. "I—I——"
"She's going to sing 'Star of Peace,'" interposed Mrs. Coomber; "let her come and sit over here by the fire."
"You let her alone," roared her husband; "she's a-going to do what I tell her. Come here," he called, in a still louder tone. Tiny ventured a step nearer, but did not go close to him.
"Are you coming?" he roared again; then, stretching out his hand, he seized her by the arm, and dragged her towards him, giving her a violent shake as he did so. "There—now sing!" he commanded, placing her against his knee.