He stood with his eyes on the ground.

‘That is all you have to say?’ he asked, almost sullenly.

’What more can I say?  Surely you should not have compelled me to say even so much.  I appeal to your kindness, to your sense of what is due from a man to a woman, to let me leave you now, and to make no further attempt to see me.  If you refuse, you take advantage of my powerlessness.  I am sure you are not capable of that.’

‘Yes, I am capable of more than you think,’ he replied, the words coming between his teeth.  His evil demon, not himself, was speaking; in finding utterance at length it made him deadly pale, and brought a cold sweat to his brow.  ’When you think afterwards of what I say now, remember that it was love of you that made me desperate.  A chance you little dream of has put power into my hands, and I am going to use it.  I care for nothing on this earth but to make you my wife—­and I can do so.’

Terror weighed upon her heart.  His tone was that of a man who would stick at nothing, and his words would bear no futile meaning.  Her thoughts were at once of her father; through him alone could he have power over her.  She waited, sick with agonised anticipation, for what would follow.

‘Your father—­’

The gulf between purpose and execution once passed, he had become cruel; human nature has often enough exemplified the law in prominent instances.  As he pronounced the words, he eyed her deliberately, and, before proceeding, paused just long enough to see the anguish flutter in her breast.

’Your father has been guilty of dishonesty; he has taken money from the mill.  Any day that I choose I can convict him.’

She half closed her eyes and shook, as if under a blow.  Then the blood rushed to her face, and, to his astonishment. she uttered a strange laugh.

‘That is your power over me!’ she exclaimed, with all the scorn her voice could express.  ’Now I know that you are indeed capable of shameful things.  You think I shall believe that of my father?’

Dagworthy knew what it was to feel despicable.  He would, in this moment, have relinquished all his hope to be able to retract those words.  He was like a beaten dog before her; and the excess of his degradation made him brutal.

’Believe it or not, as you choose.  All I have to say is that your father put into his pocket yesterday morning a ten-pound note of mine, which he found in a ledger he took out of my room.  He had to go to Hebsworth on business, and there he changed the note to buy himself a new hat; I have a witness of it.  When he came back hoof course had nothing to say about the money; in fact, he had stolen it.’