"The time to settle up all this business will soon come," said he, shaking his head.
"Mr. Tom Thornton, if you think you can scare me with any bugbears, you are mistaken. I know you better than you think I do."
"What do you know?" demanded he, surprised out of his malignity by my remark.
"What I know I keep to myself. When you go back to Mrs. Loraine, I wish you would tell her from me that it won't sound well when it is told she kept that poor girl shut up in her room for a week or ten days, with the blinds nailed so that she could not open them, just because she took long stitches, or trod on a flower. If I were in your place I shouldn't like to marry a woman like that."
Tom looked uneasy, and played with his watch chain. I thought he wanted to say something conciliatory; that he desired to extend to me the olive branch of peace, the better to get me into his power. I was quite willing to listen to any overtures of this kind, for I wanted to return to the cottage, obtain the will and the money, and then bid a final adieu to Parkville until I had solved the problem of my existence. I was fearfully anxious lest my uncle should discover the loss of the valuable document I had taken, and it should be found where I had concealed it.
"Ernest, you are getting yourself into trouble," said Tom, after a while, in milder tones than he had yet used.
"For which, no doubt, you are very sorry," I added.
"I'm sure I don't want to quarrel with you."
"You have been very mild and gentle to me."
"Well, I was mad, Ernest," said he, with something like a smile. "If you will tell me where my horse is, we will call it all square."