“Perhaps not,” he said, in a low, muttering way; “but I know what I’m going to do!”
“Do!” she cried, recovering herself, and making an effort to regain her old ascendency over her brother. “I forbid you to do anything. You shall not interfere.”
“Very well,” said the young man, with a smile; and as his sister persisted he seemed to be subdued.
“Nothing, I say. Any quarrel I may have with Captain Armstrong is my affair, and I can fight my own battle. Do you hear?”
“Yes, I hear,” said Abel, going toward the door.
“You understand! I forbid it. You shall not even speak to him.”
“Yes, I understand,” said Abel, tucking the netting-needle into his pocket, and thrusting his knife into its sheath; and then, before Mary could call up sufficient energy to speak again, the young man passed out of the cottage and hurried after Bart.
Mary went to the little casement and stood gazing after him thoughtfully for a few minutes, till he passed out of her sight among the rocks on his way to where the boat lay.
“No,” she said, softly; “he would not dare!”
Then turning and taking the seat her brother had vacated, a desolate look of misery came over her handsome face, which drooped slowly into her hands, and she sat there weeping silently as she thought of the wedding that was to take place the next day.