“I,” corrected Eliphalet.
“Yes, I,” amended Fieldfare. “You little counted on the pleasure of renewing our acquaintance so soon—eh?” (Sinister words with a hint of dark deeds behind them.)
“Please let me pass.” This imperiously from the girl.
“Pass! There is but one passing for you, and that lies there.” With a gesture towards where the water would be on the night. “Unless——”
“I am not a child to be frightened by such threats, Sir Jasper. Stand aside, or I shall cry for help.”
“Cry, will you?—and who will answer it? The trees—the hills—the river?”
Mr. Cartwright placed his foot in the lowest rung of the ladder leading to the rostrum.
Miss Maybank: “I command you to let me pass.”
Fieldfare: “You little fool! Don’t you realise that at this moment you are utterly mine?—that I could flick out your life as easily as—er—” he fluffed for his words, “as easily as I could crack a nut in a door?”
“What are you talking about?” interrupted Eliphalet. “Beneath my heel is the line. Persons of quality do not crack nuts in doors.”