“We don’t part like that, sir,” said Rock, following him and speaking to him over his shoulder. “I’ve got some more to say to you.”
“Then say it to my face; don’t keep sneaking behind me like an assassin. What is it?”
“This, sir: you have robbed me, sir; you have taken my ewe-lamb as David did to Nathan, and your reward shall be the reward of David.”
“Oh, confound you and your ewe-lamb!” said Henry, who was fast getting beyond argument. “What do you want?”
“I want her back, sir. I don’t care what’s happened; I don’t care if you have stolen her; I tell you I want her back.”
“Very well, then, go and find her; but don’t bother me.”
“Oh yes, I’ll find her in time; I’ll marry her, never you fear; but I thought that you might be able to help me on with it, for she’s nothing to you; but you see it’s this way—I can’t live without her.”
“I have told you, Mr. Rock, that I don’t know where Joan Haste is; and if I did, I may add that I would not help you to find her, as I believe she is hiding herself to keep out of your way. Now will you be so good as to go?”
Then Samuel burst into a flood of incoherent menaces and abuse, born of his raging hate and jealousy. Henry did not follow the torrent—he did not even attempt to do so, seeing that his whole energies were occupied in a supreme effort to prevent himself from knocking this creature down.
“She’s mine, and not yours,” he ended. “I’m an honest man, I am, and I mean to marry her like an honest man; and when I’ve married her, just you keep clear, Sir Henry Graves, or, by the God that made me, I’ll cut your throat!”