"James, I tell you to make him move out of my way, or he will wish he had."
Dinah went to the boy and tried to smooth his hair and pacify him. He only pushed her away, glaring all the time with the might of his will at his father. He was becoming very much excited. William had expected an unpleasant scene, but not quite such as this. If it continued long, the boy would make himself ill. What an indomitable will he had! He was fairly choking with rage and anger.
"Dinah and James, you may retire. Leave us alone."
"They shall not go. They belong to mother. You have no right to tell them what to do. You had better go yourself. Move out of my way, or I will hurt you."
"James—Dinah,—leave us. I do not wish to speak to you again."
The tone of William's voice left no room for doubt he meant what he said, and they closed the door behind them without a word. As they did so, Augustus pushed his chair forward; William's face was white. He stood with folded arms, right in the path, his eyes gleaming brilliantly. They were stubborn wills that conflicted, but William's had all the advantage, as he knew how to direct his thoughts clearly, while Augustus was spending his wildly.
Just as the chair reached him, William put out his hand and stopped it right in front of him. That he should be stopped so enraged Augustus, who had always been accustomed to seeing everyone bow to his wishes, that, raising himself to his feet, and supporting himself with one hand, he struck William with all the force of his strength. William seized the wrist with one hand and holding it firmly, with the other he forced the boy back into his chair. Augustus was trembling in every limb. The unconquered force of will was shining in his eyes, but his body was too frail and weak to support it. He struggled to speak several times before he could articulate.
"Let me go. I will be sick and frighten mamma so she will send you away. Mamma! Dinah! James! Let me go, I say. If I were a man, I would be ashamed to hold a sick boy. Mamma!"
"I am not holding a sick boy, but a cross one. Do not call your mother or anyone else again. They will not come to you."
"What are you going to do, kill me? Mamma—mamma!"