t much
grudge that if he could lay his hond on thee, while th' heat's on him,
he'd kill thee or dee. He will na be so bitter after a while, happen,
but he'd do it now, and that's why I warn thee. Tha has no reet to be
goin' out loike this," glancing at his bandaged arm. "How could tha
help thysen if he were to set on thee? Tha had better tak' heed, I tell
thee."

"I am very much indebted to you," began Fergus.

She stopped him.

"Tha did me a good turn," she said. And then her voice changed. "Dan
Lowrie's my feyther, an' I've stuck to him, I dunnot know why--happen
cause I never had nowt else to hold to and do for; but feyther or no
feyther I know he's a bad un when th' fit's on an' he has a spite agen a
mon. So tak' care, I tell thee agen. Theer now, I've done. Will tha walk
on first an' let me follow thee?"

Something in her mode of making this suggestion impressed him
singularly.

"I do not quite understand--" he said.

She turned and looked at him, her face white and resolute.

"I dunnot want harm done," she answered. "I will na ha' harm done if
I con help it, an' if I mun speak th' truth I know theer's harm afoot
to-neet. If I'm behind thee, theer is na a mon i' Riggan as dare lay
hond on thee to my face, if I _am_ nowt but a lass. That's why I ax thee
to let me keep i' soight."

"You are a brave woman," he said, "and I will do as you tell me, but I
feel like a coward."

"Theer is no need as you should," she answered in a softened voice, "Yo'
dunnot seem loike one to me."

Derrick bent suddenly, and taking her hand, raised it to his lips. At
this involuntary act of homage--for it was nothing less--Joan Lowrie
looked up at him with startled eyes.

"I am na a lady," she said, and drew her hand away.

They went out into the road together, he first, she following at a short
distance, so that nobody seeing the one could avoid seeing the other. It
was an awkward and trying position for a man of Derrick's temperament,
and under some circumstances he would have rebelled against it; as it
was, he could not feel humiliated.

At a certain dark bead in the road not far from Lowrie's cottage, Joan
halted suddenly and spoke.

"Feyther," she said, in a clear steady voice, "is na that yo' standin'
theer? I thowt yo'd happen to be comin' whoam this way. Wheer has tha
been?" And as he passed on, Derrick caught the sound of a muttered oath,
and gained a side glimpse of a heavy, slouching figure coming stealthily
o