"Do not dare to call her again. When you and I have finished, we will both go to her. Stop. Stop struggling. You are powerless to get away. Calm yourself and listen to me."
"I will not be calm. I shall be sick, and mamma will wish she had listened to me. She is always scared—"
"You are not going to be ill."
"I will. I am sick. I feel my heart beating fast; that always means I am going to be awful sick. Why are you looking at me that way? You are hurting my wrist. I cannot breathe, I am—"
"You are feeling well. See, you are not trembling so much; Augustus, look at me. There, there,—you cannot get away, so you may as well obey me. Be a good boy and we will go to your mother. Let us tell her we are friends. I know you are tired;—I will carry you."
"What will you give me if I won't be sick?"
"I shall not allow you to be ill. Come; you are exhausted. I will carry you in my arms to your mother. You may rest beside her when you have told me you are sorry for your behavior, and are ready to come home with me."
"I shall never say I am sorry. We are not going home with you."
"You shall sit right where you are until you do say so."
Suddenly Augustus burst forth into a perfect tempest of crying. He shook from head to foot, and every little while he called "Mamma—Dinah!" William stood beside him, offering no remarks or assistance, but when the fury had spent itself he said quietly, "It is useless for you to try to frighten me. We will stay right here until you do what I say."