ts the farm, and
house, and fixins, and all, for a new-married pair to set up, Miss?'

'I don't think you should allow anything to interfere with what is just
and merciful,' said Miss Wynn, with a strong effort. Her tormentor stood
on the path between her and the house.

'S'pose I said they wanted that new-married pair to be you an' me,
Miss?'

The audacity of the speech nearly took away her breath, and sent the
blood in violent crimson over her face and throat. 'Let me pass, sir,'
was her only answer, most haughtily spoken.

'Uncle Zack's a rich man,' pleaded his son. 'He's always been an ole
'coon, with a fine nest of cash at his back. It's in a New York bank,
'vested in shares. He's promised me the best part of it, an' the store
into the bargain. You'll be a fool if you say "No," I guess.'

Here he was seized from behind by the throat, and hurled round heavily
to the ground.

'Why, then, you spalpeen of an owdacious vagabone, it's well but I smash
every bone in yer skin. Of all the impudence I ever heerd in my whole
life, you bate it out, clear and clane! O, murther, if I could only give
you the batin' I'd like, only maybe the master 'ud be vexed!' And Mr.
Callaghan danced round his victim, wielding a terrible shillelagh.

CHAPTER XLI.

THE MILL-PRIVILEGE.

Meanwhile the noonday dinner at Davidson's bee progressed merrily. The
mighty maskelonge disappeared piecemeal, simultaneously with a profusion
of veal and venison pies, legs and sides of pork, raspberry tarts,
huge dishes of potatoes and hot buns, trays of strawberries, and other
legitimate backwoods fare; served and eaten all at the same time,
with an aboriginal disregard of courses. After much wriggling and
scheming--for he could not do the smallest thing in a straightforward
manner--Zack Bunting had edged himself beside Mr. Wynn the elder; who,
to please his good friend Davidson, occupied what he magnificently
termed the vice-chair, being a stout high stool of rough red pine;
and Zack slouched beside him, his small cunning eyes glancing sidelong
occasionally from his tin platter to the noble upright figure of the old
gentleman.

'What's in the wind now?' quoth Robert to himself, at the other end of
the board, as he surveyed this contrast of personages. Looking down
the lines of hungry labourers for Nim's duplicate face, it was absent,
though he had seen it a-field. Andy's was 343 also wanting, and with
it the hilarity which radiated from h