“As ye will, as ye will,” he said, limping rapidly to and fro in his agitation. “I have heard o’ kings losing their crowns from the curse of a woman’s tongue.”
Dan had freed Bess. He sprang forward and picked up the gun.
“Ye shall not be doing murder this night, father,” he said.
The dawn was creeping up over Pevensel when Isaac, Dan, and Bess came through the woods towards the hamlet. The forest was full of mist and silence, vague and ghostly vapor standing in the glades. The stars sank back as the gray light increased in the vault above. Then came the first whimper of a waking bird, followed as by magic by the shrill piping from a thousand throats. The whole vast wilderness seemed to grow great with sound. The trees stood as though listening, their huge polls shrouded in mysterious vapor. From the east a gradual glory of gold swam up into the heavens, flashing over the misty hills, touching all the dewy greenness of the woods with light.
Isaac limped along in front, sniffing the air, and darting rapid glances from side to side. Bess and her husband followed him, the girl white and silent, her black hair in a tangle, her eyes dark with the perilous fortune of the night. She walked wearily, looking neither to the right hand nor the left, but watching old Isaac limping in the van. Dan, dour and sullen, strode at her side, his gun over one shoulder, spade and pick over the other.
Not till he reached his own doorway did Isaac turn and face the two who followed him. He gave a fierce glance at Bess, a questioning look at Dan, and, unlocking the door of the cottage, went in without a word. They heard the merry whimpering of the dog, the jingle of money, the sound of the old man rummaging in a cupboard. When he came out again there were pistols in his belt.
“Take her home, lad,” he said, curtly.
Dan nodded Bess towards the cottage beyond the orchard. She walked on slowly, Dan setting himself beside his father as they followed under the trees. Bess heard them talking together in undertones, the old man’s voice suave and insinuating, Dan’s gruff and obstinate. When they came through the garden, with its monthly roses dashed with dew and all its green life fragrant and full of a summer freshness, Dan laid a hand on Bess’s shoulder, unlocked the door, and pushed her over the threshold. He bade her sit down in the heavy oak chair, while Isaac sank with a tired grunt on the settle by the window. Dan brought Bess a mug of water and a hunch of bread and commanded her to eat. She obeyed mechanically, wondering what they were going to do with her. Isaac and his son watched her in silence.
When she had made a meal, Dan went out to the shed behind the cottage and brought back some fathoms of stout cord. He ordered Bess to hold out her hands. There was no sign of hesitation on his sullen, black-bearded face. He tied Bess’s hands together, bound her about the body and the ankles to the chair, Isaac watching with silent satisfaction. When Dan had bound her thus he went out with his father, locking the door after him, and left Bess to the fellowship of her thoughts.
Isaac turned into his cottage for a moment to count out the eighty guineas he had promised Ursula and to lock the rest of the gold in his strong box at the bottom of the oak hutch. He did not doubt that the money would put the old lady in the best of tempers, and that he could safely confide in her concerning Bess. Isaac rejoined Dan in the garden, and they moved away towards Ursula’s cottage whose stone-wall and thatched roof showed amid the dark trunks and drooping branches of the pines. The old woman was in bed when Isaac knocked at the door. A lattice opened overhead, and a red beak and a pair of beady eyes under a pink night-cap appeared, with a few wisps of gray hair falling about a yellow and skinny neck. Isaac spoke a few words to her and jingled the money. The face popped in again and they heard Ursula hobbling down the stairs. She had tied on a red petticoat and thrown a black shawl over her shoulders. Isaac went into her when she had unbolted the door, leaving Dan leaning against the wall with his hands deep in his breeches-pockets.