'I do not suppose you can. But—has Property got into your blood, that you speak so sharp to me? Maybe, like a bat, you're hanging on to it by a claw. Like a gnat, you have your lips to it, and are sucking your fill. I do not ask your help. I fend for myself. But I like to talk. Nothing will be done to correct evils if the evils be not talked about. You must go round Jericho and blow the trumpets seven times, and seven times again, before the walls will fall, and we can march up and take the city. Let Property look out. The working people will not stand to be robbed and maltreated any longer.'
Beamish unloosed the rope that attached the boat to the shore, and, taking a pole, thrust out and began slowly to force the vessel up stream, talking as he punted.
'You may tell Drownlands my curse rests on him; and that will rot his timber and rust his corn.'
'I will bear him no such message,' said Zita. 'But where are you taking me?'
'Up the river. I shall leave you presently; but I will return and punt you back again.'
'Where are you going?'
'To Red Wings.'
'What do you want there?'
'I have an errand,' answered Beamish.
'There is one gone there before you, with an errand from himself—and that is Mark Runham.'