"You must excuse me, papa!" she said in a tone unheard from her before.
This raising of the rampart of human dignity, crowned with refusal, between him and his own child, galled him afresh.
"Then you shall be compelled!" he said, with an oath through his clenched teeth.
Mercy stood silent and motionless.
"Go to your room. By heaven you shall stay there till you do as I tell you!"
He was between her and the door.
"You need not think to gain your point by obstinacy," he added. "I swear that not another word shall pass between you and that blockhead of a chief—not if I have to turn watch-dog myself!"
He made way for her, but did not open the door. She left the room too angry to cry, and went to her own. Her fear of her father had vanished. With Alister on her side she could stand against the world! She went to her window. She could not see the cottage from it, but she could see the ruin, and the hill of the crescent fire, on which she had passed through the shadow of death. Gazing on the hill she remembered what Alister would have her do, and with her Father in heaven sought shelter from her father on earth.