Amy’s eye gleamed—protection grew fierce and fanned the burning sense of wrong. The father stood over them like a fury rather than a fate—stood as the shock of Amy’s cry and her stormy entrance, like that of an avenging angel, had fixed him.

But presently he began to recover his senses, jumping to the conclusion that this worthless girl had drawn Cornelius into her evil ways and was the cause of ruining him and his family forever!

The thought set the geyser of his rage roaring and spouting in the face of heaven. He heaved his whip and a punishing blow fell upon her. But instead of another shriek following the lash, nothing came but a shudder and a silence, and the unquailing eye of the girl fixed itself like a spectre upon her assailant.

He struck her again. Again came the shivering shudder and the silence. Cry she would not, even if he killed her!

The sense that she had kept the blows from falling upon Corney upheld the brave creature. She once drew in her breath sharply, but never took her eyes from the man’s face. Then, suddenly, the light in them began to fade and went quickly out. Her head dropped like a stone upon the breast of her cowardly husband. Now, even mute defiance was gone.

What if he had killed the woman, thought Raymount, as he stood with subsiding passion looking down on the miserable pair.

Amy had walked all the long distance from the station and had lost her way and had to ask directions several times. Again and again she had all but lain down to die on the moorland waste onto which she had wandered. Then the thought of Corney and his need roused her again. Wet all the way through, blown about by the wind so that she could hardly breathe, and faint with hunger and cold, she struggled on. When at last she got to the lodge gate, the woman in charge of it took her for a common beggar and could hardly be persuaded to let her pass. But then she heard her husband’s cry. She saw the lighted window, ran into the grounds and straight toward it, dashed it open and entered. It was the last expiring effort of the poor remnant of her strength. She had not life enough left to resist the shock of her father-in-law’s blows.

While the father was still looking down on his children, the door opened softly and the mother entered. She did not even know that her husband had returned and had come in merely to know how her unlovely but beloved child was faring in his sleep. She stood still. She saw what looked like a murdered heap on the floor, and her husband standing over it. Behind her came Hester, who looked over her shoulder and understood at once.

She nearly pushed her mother aside as she sprang to help. Her father tried to prevent her. “No, father!” she said. “It is time to disobey!”