“She’s his wife, man.”

“May be,” Robert assented.

“You, Robert Eccles!” said Sedgett hoarsely; “I’ve come for my wife—­do you hear?”

“You have, I dare say,” returned Robert.  “You dodged me cleverly, that you did.  I’d like to know how it was done.  I see you’ve got a cart outside and a boy at the horse’s head.  The horse steps well, does he?  I’m about three hours behind him, I reckon:—­not too late, though!”

He let fall a great breath of weariness.

Rhoda went to the cupboard and drew forth a rarely touched bottle of spirits, with which she filled a small glass, and handing the glass to him, said, “Drink.”  He smiled kindly and drank it off.

“The man’s in your house, Mr. Fleming,” he said.

“And he’s my guest, and my daughter’s husband, remember that,” said the farmer.

“And mean to wait not half a minute longer till I’ve taken her off—­mark that,” Sedgett struck in.  “Now, Mr. Fleming, you see you keep good your word to me.”

“I’ll do no less,” said the farmer.  He went into the passage shouting for Mrs. Sumfit to bring down the box.

“She begs,” Mrs. Sumfit answered to him—­“She begs, William, on’y a short five minutes to pray by herself, which you will grant unto her, dear, you will.  Lord! what’s come upon us?”

“Quick, and down with the box, then, mother,” he rejoined.

The box was dragged out, and Dahlia’s door was shut, that she might have her last minutes alone.

Rhoda kissed her sister before leaving her alone:  and so cold were Dahlia’s lips, so tight the clutch of her hands, that she said:  “Dearest, think of God:”  and Dahlia replied:  “I do.”

“He will not forsake you,” Rhoda said.

Dahlia nodded, with shut eyes, and Rhoda went forth.

“And now, Robert, you and I’ll see who’s master on these premises,” said the farmer.  “Hear, all!  I’m bounders under a sacred obligation to the husband of my child, and the Lord’s wrath on him who interferes and lifts his hand against me when I perform my sacred duty as a father.  Place there!  I’m going to open the door.  Rhoda, see to your sister’s bonnet and things.  Robert, stand out of my way.  There’s no refreshment of any sort you’ll accept of before starting, Mr. Sedgett?  None at all!  That’s no fault of my hospitality.  Stand out of my way, Robert.”

He was obeyed.  Robert looked at Rhoda, but had no reply for her gaze of despair.

The farmer threw the door wide open.

There were people in the garden—­strangers.  His name was inquired for out of the dusk.  Then whisperings were heard passing among the ill-discerned forms, and the farmer went out to them.  Robert listened keenly, but the touch of Rhoda’s hand upon his own distracted his hearing.  “Yet it must be!” he said.  “Why does she come here?”