Bram heard this in dead silence.
“You do, eh?” went on Chris more sharply.
“No, Mr. Christian, I do not. I couldn’t come after you in a girl’s heart.”
“Why not? You are too modest, Bram.”
Perhaps Chris flattered himself that he spoke in his usual tone; but an unpleasant, jeering note was clearly discernible to Bram Elshaw’s ears. Christian went on in a more jarring tone than ever.
“Or have you been so far penetrated with the maxims of the Sunday-school that you would not allow a girl a little harmless flirtation?”
“Flirtation!” echoed Bram angrily. “It was more than that, Mr. Christian, more than that—to her!”
“It was nothing more than that,” said Chris emphatically. “I have done the girl no harm.”
Before the words were out of his mouth Bram had sprung forward with the savagery of a wild animal. In the obscurity of the cloudy night his eyes gleamed, and with set teeth and clenched fists he came close to Christian, staring into his eyes, stammering in his vehemence.
“If you had,” whispered he almost inaudibly, but with passion which infected Christian and awed him into silence, “If you had done her—any—harm, I’d ha’ strangled you, Mr. Christian. I’d ha’ gone down to t’ works, when you was there, and I’d ha’ taken one o’ t’ leather bands o’ t’ wheels, and I’d ha’ twisted it round your neck, Mr. Christian, and I’d ha’ pulled, and pulled, till I saw t’ eyes start out o’ your head, and t’ blood come bursting out o’ your mouth. And I’d ha’ held you, and tightened it, and tightened it till the breath was out o’ your body!”