"You mean you won't. We'll see about that, though," said Dan, and returning to the fireplace, he took a short, thick leather strap from a nail inside the ingle.
At sight of this the girl got up and began to scream. "Father! Father! Father!"
"Don't father me! Who was it?" said Dan.
The blood was rising in the mother's pallid face. "Collister," she cried, "if thou touch the girl again, I'll walk straight out of thy house."
"Walk, woman! Do as you plaze! But I must know who brought disgrace on my name. Who was it?"
"Don't! Don't! Don't!" cried the girl.
The mother stepped to the door. "Collister," she repeated, "for fourteen years thou's done as thou liked with me, and I've been giving thee lave to do it, but lay another hand on my child..."
"No, no, don't go, mother. I'll tell him," cried the girl. "It was .... it was Alick Gell."
"You mean the son of the Spaker?"
"Yes."