It was plain that she was almost beside herself, and that fear of the place in which she had passed so many hours had driven out all other fear. The two, who had not left her alone so long without misgiving, looked at one another and hesitated. They might overpower her. But the place was so closely watched that a single shriek might be heard; then they would be taken red-handed. Nor did Bess at least wish to use force. The position, and her views, were changed. All day curious eyes had been fixed on the house, and inquisitive people had started up where they were least expected. Bess’s folly in bringing this hornets’ nest about their ears had shaken her influence with the men; and the day had been one long exchange of savage recriminations. She owned to herself that she had done a foolish thing; that she had let her spite carry her too far. And in secret she was beginning to think how she could clear herself.
She did not despair of this; for she was crafty and of a good courage. She did not even think it would be hard; but she must, as a sine quâ non, conciliate the girl whom she had wronged. Unluckily she now saw that she could not conciliate her without taking her to the house. And she could not with safety take her to the house. The men were irritated by the peril which she had brought upon them; they were ferocious and out of hand; and terribly suspicious to boot. They blamed her, Bess, for all: they had threatened her. And if she was not safe among them, she was quite sure that Henrietta would not be safe.
There was an alternative. She might let the girl go there and then. And she would have done this, but she could not do it without Giles’s consent; and she dared not propose it to him. He was wanted for other offences, and the safe return of Henrietta and the child would not clear him. He had looked on the child, and now looked on the girl, as pawns in his game, a quid pro quo with which—if he were taken while they remained in his friends’ hands—he might buy his pardon. Bess, therefore, dared not propose to free Henrietta: and what was she to do if the girl was so foolish as to refuse to go back to the place where she was safe?
“Look here,” she said at last. “You’re safer here than in the house, if you will only take my word for it.”
But there is no arguing with fear.
“I will not!” Henrietta persisted, with passion. “I will not! Take me out of this! Take me out! The child will die here, and I shall go mad!—mad!”
“You’re pretty mad now,” the man retorted. But that said, he met Bess’s eyes and nodded reluctantly. “Well,” he said, “it’s her own lookout. But I think she’ll repent it.”
“Will you go quiet?” Bess asked.
“Yes, yes!”
“And you’ll not cry out? Nor try to break away?”