'No, no; not so, not so; not in secret,' she muttered. 'I wish to see my grandfather. Let me pass.'
'Are you mad?' screamed Catherine, dragging her backward by her skirts. 'He is hot with brandy, I tell you; you know what brandy makes him; if he knows you have been off the island he will beat you. Has he not beaten you before, that you should doubt it?'
'I do not doubt,' said Damaris. 'But it is only just that he should be told——
'I owe him everything, you know,' she added, 'and I did wrong to go away from home in his absence.'
'Wrong! of course you did wrong. But you would listen to nobody, you were so taken up with those fine folks. Of course you did wrong, but since the harm is done, and it is of no use to cry over spilt milk and broken eggs, get you into your bed; your grandfather will never know anything. Raphael and I, be sure, shall not tell. Get in and hold your own counsel. In the morning it will all be as one.'
'No, it would not be fair,' said Damaris.
Her face was very pale, but the exaltation of a romantic devotion to honour had come upon her, and gave her a strength not her own. She passed the figure of Catherine in the entrance of the scullery, and walked with firm steps through the stone passages, between the crowded bales of oranges and lemons, straightway into the great kitchen, where Jean Bérarde sat. The light from an oil lamp which swung from the rafters shone on his strong, harsh, brown features, his grizzled eyebrows, his white beard; the broad-leaved hat he had drawn over his face threw a dark gloom over the upper part of his features, and added to the natural hardness and fierceness of their expression. He had been running smuggled brandies successfully in his brig, a sport very dear to him, though prudence made him but seldom indulge in it; he had been drinking a good deal, and though not wholly drunk his temper was in readiness for any outbreak, like flax soaked in petroleum. He looked up from under his heavy brows at Damaris as she entered; the light and shadows were wavering before his sight, but he recognised her.
'The woman said you were a-bed,' he muttered with a great oath. 'What do you mean—up at this time of night?'
The exaggerated scruples and the overwrought exaltation of the child made her brave to answer him. She came up quite close to him and looked at him with shining, steady eyes: