'Back!' ordered the dragoon on the right, and Zita was forced to retreat.
As she did so, she saw Kainie by Drownlands. The girl had seized his bridle, and was gesticulating with vehemence.
'It is your doing,' said Kerenhappuch. 'You hate him. You try to destroy him. You are heaping to yourself wrath against the day of wrath.'
'Let go my bridle,' ordered Drownlands.
'You are my uncle,' insisted the girl, her fair hair blown over her face. With one hand she brushed it back, but did not release her hold on the bridle. 'Although you have not treated me as of like flesh and blood with yourself, yet you cannot undo it; I am your niece, and speak to you I will, now.'
'Let go, I say. I will hold no communication with you.' He struck his spurs into the sides of his horse, which reared. But Kainie would not let go. The plunging of the horse made the curb nip and cut Kainie's hand, and some blood came over it. She changed hands on the bridle.
'Look!' said she. 'You cannot help it. This is Drownlands blood. It is Drownlands blood appeals to you now.'
Then Zita laid her hand on the bridle, on the farther side of the beast.
'We are two girls,' she said, 'and we will stay you, man though you be. Kainie and I are enemies, we do not love each other, but we unite in beseeching you to do justice to one man.'
'Ay,' said the mill-girl. 'Uncle Ki, you are bent on evil, and we will hold you back against plunging farther into the slough.'