'I will not be forced to marry you, sir. Let me go. Every penny of your claim shall be paid, but I will not marry you.'
A laugh greeted these words, and yet when Bryda said, after a momentary pause, 'I trust in God, and He will deliver me,' the laugh was changed into a tone of entreaty. Something in this girl there was which, in spite of himself, commanded respect. So small, so fragile as she looked in his power, in his hands, lured thither by his treachery, as a bird is lured to the snare, he yet quailed as Bryda repeated, 'He will deliver me.'
'Nay, Bryda,' he began in a gentler tone, 'I love you. I offer you all I have. I make you honourable proposals, when some men might—'
A loud voice was now heard.
'What are you doing here—eh?' And in another moment Jack Henderson strode up, and putting his arm round Bryda, said defiantly, 'Touch her again if you dare.'
'Touch her!' Mr Bayfield said, with cool irony, 'touch her! I am to marry her to-morrow morning at Bath, so, my good fellow, I advise you to go back the way you came, and remember the old adage and mind your own business.'
'Is this true, Bryda?' Jack said, still holding her with his strong arm, 'is this true?'
'No, Jack, no, it is not true—it is false.'
Then Jack sprang upon the Squire and struck him across the face.
'Leave her!' he shouted, 'leave go this instant, you scoundrel!'