to pity her the more for her comeliness. But as a matter of fact I
do."

Sir Oliver stared at him. "_You_ to pity her! _You_ to plead her
beauty to _me_, who took it out of the mud where you had flung her,
mauled by you and left to lie like a bloody clout!"

But the armour of Mr. Trask's self-righteousness was not pierced.
"I sentenced her," he replied calmly, "for her soul's welfare.
Who said--what right have you to assume--that she would have been left
to lie there? Rather, did I not promise you in the market-square that,
her chastening over, my cart should fetch her? Did I not keep my word?
And could you not read in the action some earnest that the girl would be
looked after? Your atheism, sir, makes you dull in spiritual
understanding."

"I am glad that it does, sir."

"If your passion for Ruth Josselin held an ounce of honesty, you would
not be glad; for even in this world you have ruined her."

"Mr. Trask, I have not."

Mr. Trask glanced at him quickly.

"--Upon my honour as a gentleman I have not, neither do I desire
it . . . Sir, twice in this half-mile you have prompted me to ask,
What, here on this meadow, prevents my killing you? Wait; I know your
answer. You are a courageous man and would say that as a magistrate you
have schooled yourself to accept risks and to despise threats. Yes,"
Sir Oliver admitted with a laugh, "you are an infernally hard nut to
crack, and somehow I cannot help liking you for it. Are you spending
the night yonder, by-the-bye?" He nodded towards the village.

"No, sir. I propose returning this evening to Port Nassau."

"Then it is idle to invite you to my wedding. I am to be married at
nine o'clock to-morrow."

Mr. Trask eyed him for a moment or two. Then his gaze wandered ahead to
the river, where already the ferrymen had caught sight of them and were
pushing the horse-boat across with long sweeps; and beyond the river to
a small wooden-spired church, roofed with mossy shingles that even at
this distance showed green in the slant sunlight.

"Yonder?" he asked.

"Ay: you would have been welcome."

"I will attend," said Mr. Trask. "A friend of mine--a farmer--will
lodge me for the night. A hospitable man, who has made the offer a
score of times. After so many refusals I am glad of an excuse for
accepting."

"I stipulate that you keep the excuse a secret from him. It is to be
quite private. That," said Sir Oliver, turning in saddle for a look
behind