He shan't make out to the
world that he's done what a father should do for a son. He's my natural
father and no more, and he never wanted or meant to be more. And no
right will take away that wrong. And I'll treat him as other natural
creatures treat their fathers."

"You can't do that," she said. "You're a human, and you've got a
conscience and must answer to it."

"I will--some day. I know what my conscience says to me. My conscience
tells me the truth, not a lot of lies like yours tells you. I know
what's right and I know what's justice. I gave the man one chance. I
offered to go in his works--my works that ought to be some day. But that
didn't suit him. I must always knuckle under and bend to his will. But
never--never. I'd starve first, or throw myself into the sea. He don't
want me near him for people to point to, so I must be drove out of
Bridetown to the ends of the earth if he chooses. And if the damned
world was straight and honest and looked after the women and innocent
children, 'tis him, not me, would have been drove out of Bridetown."

He spoke with amazing bitterness for youth, and echoed much that he had
heard, as well as what he had thought. His mother felt some astonishment
to find how his mind had enlarged, and some fear, also, to see the
hopelessness of the position.

Already she considered in secret what craft might be necessary to bring
him to a more reasonable mind.

"You'll have to think of me as well as yourself," she said. "Life's hard
enough without you making it so much harder. Two things will happen in a
few weeks from now and nothing can stop them. First you've got to leave
here, because farmer don't want you any more, and then poor Mister
Churchouse is going to pass away. He's just fading out like a
night-light--flickering up and down and bound to be called. And the best
man and the truest friend to sorrow that ever trod the earth."

"I was going from here," he answered. "And you can look to me for making
a pound a week, and you can have it all if you'll take nothing from any
of my enemies. If you take money from my enemies, then I won't help
you."

"You're a man in your opinions seemingly, though I wish to God you
hadn't grown out of childhood so quick, if you were going to grow to
this. It'll drive you mad if you're not careful. Then where shall I be?"

"I'll drive other people mad--not you. I'll come back home, and then
I'll find work at Bridport."

"Where's home going to be-