“Well, my lass, not yours!” Giles, the less violent of the two, answered.
“Nor yours either! And, any way, it’s due to me that you are in it, and not outside, with irons on you.”
“But cannot you see, lass,” Giles answered, in a more moderate tone, “that you’ve upset all by bringing the wench here? You’ll hear the morrow, or the morrow of that, that your lad’s got clear to Leith, and Thistlewood with him! And then we go our way, and yon gipsy will carry off the brat in his long pack, and drop him the devil cares where—and nobody’ll be the wiser, and his father’ll have a lesson that will do him good! But, now you’ve let the girl in, what’ll you do with her when we get clear? You cannot stow her in the long pack, and the moment you let her go her tongue will clack!”
“How do you know it will clack?” Bess asked, in a tone that froze the listening girl’s blood. “How do you know it will clack?” she repeated. “The lake’s deep enough to hold both.”
“But what’s the game, lass?” Giles asked. “Show a glim. Let’s see it. If you are so fond of us,” in a tone of unpleasant meaning, “that you’ve brought her—just to amuse us in our leisure, say it out! Though even then I’m not for saying that the game is worth the candle, my lass! Since coves in our very particular case has to be careful, and the prettiest bit of red and white may hang a man as quick as her mother! But I don’t think you had that in your mind, Bess.”
“Well?”
“And that being so, and hemp so cheap, out with it! Show a glim, and you’ll not find us nasty.”
“The thing’s pretty plain, isn’t it?” Bess answered, coolly. “You’ve had your fun. Why shouldn’t I have mine? You’d a grudge, and you’ve paid it. Why am I not to pay mine?”
“What has the wench done to you?”
“What’s that to you?” viciously. “Stolen my lad, if you like. Any Away, it’s my business. If I choose to treat her as you have treated the brat, what is it to you? If I’ve a mind to give her a taste of the smugglers’ oven, what’s that to you? Or if I choose to spoil her looks, or break her pride—she’s one of those that teach us to behave ourselves lowly and reverently to all our betters—and if I choose to give her a lesson, is it any business but mine? She’s crossed me! She’s a peacock! And if I choose to have some fun with her and hold her nose to the grindstone, what’s that to you?”