“Leave me, Miss Juliet,” said Mary, regaining her self-possession; “leave me to my own sorrow.  Oh, I wish I could die and forget it all!  But I dare not die.  Hateful as life has become, I dare not look upon death.  Do not weep for me—­your tears will drive me mad!  Do not look at me so—­it makes me hate you.  Do not ask me to go to the Lodge, for I will not go!” she cried, springing to her feet, and clenching her hands.  “I am my own mistress!  You cannot make me obey you.  If I choose to bid defiance to the world, and live as I please, it is no business of yours.  You shall not—­you dare not attempt to control me!” And brushing past Miss Whitmore, she was soon lost among the trees.  Juliet drew a freer breath when she was gone, and turning round beheld her father.

“What are you doing here in the rain, Juliet? your habit is soaked with water.  And where is Godfrey?”

“Take me home, papa!” said Juliet, flinging herself into his arms, and sobbing upon his shoulder.  “Godfrey is gone for ever.  I have been dreadfully frightened; but I will tell you all when we get home.  I cannot tell you here!”

CHAPTER XVI.

    Whate’er thou hast to say, speak boldly out;
    Confront me like a man—­I shall not start. 
    Nor shiver, nor turn pale.  My hand is firm,
    My heart is firmer still; and both are braced
    To meet the hour of danger—­S.M.

About a mile and a half from the village of Ashton, at the head of an obscure cross road, seldom traversed but by wagoners and their teams, or the day laborer going to and fro from the neighboring farms to his work, there stood, a little back in a pathway field, a low public house, whose signboard merely contained the following blunt announcement to mark the owner’s calling,

    “Table Beer
    Sold Here.”

The master of this obscure house of entertainment (which from its lonely situation might have been termed anything but public,) was a notorious poacher, familiarly known as Old Strawberry; and his cottage, for it deserved no better name, was the nightly resort of all the idle young fellows in the parish.

The in-door accommodations of the house consisted of two rooms below, and two attics above, and a long lean-to, which ran the whole length of the back of the building, forming an easy mode of egress, should need be, from the chamber windows above.  The front rooms were divided into a sort of bar, which was separated from the kitchen by a high, old-fashioned stamped-leather screen, behind which a stout red faced middle aged woman held despotic sway, dispensing as many oaths to her customers as she did pots of beer.  The other room was of a more private nature.  It was fitted up with tables, cards and dice, to which none but the initiated were ever admitted.