Nothing would ever induce her again to risk the precious life of her child at his hands. She had no thought whither she should go, how she should live—her sole thought was to escape from Jonas, and by putting a distance between herself and him, place the infant beyond danger.
As she ran up the lane from the house she encountered Sally Rocliffe at the well head.
"Where be you goyne to, like that; and with the child, too?" asked the woman.
Mehetabel drew the little face of the babe to her, lest the eye of its aunt should light on it. She could not speak, palpitating with fear, as she was.
"What be you runnin' out for this time o' the mornin'?" asked Mrs.
Rocliffe again.
"I cannot tell you," gasped the mother.
"But I will know."
"I shall never, never go back again," cried Mehetabel.
"Oh! he's kicked you out, has he? That's like Jonas."
"I'm runnin' away.