The tears dried on Nancy’s cheeks, and the feeling of pity for the father who had been bereaved like herself gave place to a nausea that was too physical to be called hate. She did not tell him the insinuation was a lie, but knocked for Keturah, and fell into her arms when she came, deathly sick. From that moment Inman had persecuted her, assuming her guilt from the slender evidence that it was Jagger who had recovered the child, and her own confusion, but making no inquiries lest his suspicion should be removed, and as she grew stronger the hatred he took no trouble to conceal spread to her own heart and revealed itself in her face. There was then open war between them, carefully concealed, however, from everyone but themselves.
One circumstance gave Nancy satisfaction. Her husband showed no disposition to share her room.
“You may stay where you are!” he said to Keturah when she suggested that Nancy no longer required her services: “I’m going to stop where I am.”
It was at this time that the Drakes experienced a more serious mishap than had hitherto befallen them. On reaching their work at a building which was being erected at some little distance from the village, they found one morning to their dismay that the stays to the roof principals had been removed, and that the whole superstructure had fallen, doing much damage.
Father and son looked at each other in silence. Each knew that this was a serious disaster.
“It’s no accident, father!” said Jagger, speaking through closed teeth.
“It’s no accident, lad! Them stays has been ta’en down since we left!”
“He’ll give it out ’at they weren’t right fixed,” continued Jagger;—“ ’at we’re too damned careless to be trusted to knock a soap-box together. Look what he said when he set t’ timber loose!”
He referred to an occasion when timber, which they had set in the stream to season had been found farther down the river when daylight came, and Inman had said with a sneer that the Drakes were too damned careless to tie a knot in a rope.
“I’ve watched his house for two nights and he never left it,” Jagger went on. “Stalker saw me t’ second time and didn’t seem to like it. He said he was down on fellows ’at were hiding behind walls at two o’clock i’ t’ morning when there was so much mischief afloat. I could ha’ knocked his head off! a chap ’at can neither collar t’ rascal himself nor let other folks have a try.”