“Now,” said Ralph sternly, “are you coming up to surrender?”
“What!” said Mark sharply; “why am I to surrender to you?”
“For trespass and robbery. This is my father’s land, and those are our birds.”
Mark laughed scornfully to hide his annoyance, for conscience pricked hard.
“Your land, indeed!” he cried. “Wild moorland, open to anybody; and as to the birds, are all the crows yours too?”
Ralph did not condescend to reply, but lay there looking down at the young representative of his father’s rival.
“I wish you good day, Master Owner of the land, and lord of the birds of the air,” said Mark mockingly. “If you had asked me civilly, I might perhaps have given you a young raven. As it is, I shall not.”
“What are you going to do?” said Ralph sharply. “Wait and see,” was the mocking reply. “Shan’t I heave this stone down on his head, Master Ralph?” said Nick in a low tone; but the words came plainly to Mark’s ear, and sent a cold chill of horror thrilling through his nerves; but he felt better the next moment, and then anger took the place of dread, for Ralph said sharply, “Put the stone down, sirrah! You know I want to take the wolf’s cub alive.”
“Wolf’s cub!” said Mark to himself. “Never mind; I may meet him some day when it is not three to one, and then he shall find that the wolf’s cub can bite.”
Then, conscious that his every movement was watched, he cautiously rose to his feet, made an effort to ignore the presence of lookers-on, and began to climb sideways along the ledge, by the route he had come. Still he had no intention of going up, knowing full well that he would only be giving himself up to insult, and perhaps serious injury, taken at a disadvantage, as he felt that he must be; but calmly, and in the most sure-footed way, sidled along, with the ledge getting more and more narrow, but the hand-hold better.