extremely.

Then a middle-aged laborer stepped from the road into the field, hat in
hand, ducked respectfully, and said: "Look 'e here, Sir Charles. Don't
'e mind them fellers. There ain't a man belonging to this neighborhood
among 'em; not one in your employ or on your land. Our dooty to you and
your ladyship, and we will trust to you to do what is fair by us. We
want no interlopers from Lunnon to get us into trouble with your honor,
and--"

"You unmitigated cur," exclaimed Trefusis fiercely, "what right have you
to give away to his unborn children the liberty of your own?"

"They're not unborn," said Lady Brandon indignantly. "That just shows
how little you know about it."

"No, nor mine either," said the man, emboldened by her ladyship's
support. "And who are you that call me a cur?"

"Who am I! I am a rich man--one of your masters, and privileged to call
you what I please. You are a grovelling famine-broken slave. Now go and
seek redress against me from the law. I can buy law enough to ruin you
for less money than it would cost me to shoot deer in Scotland or vermin
here. How do you like that state of things? Eh?"

The man was taken aback. "Sir Charles will stand by me," he said, after
a pause, with assumed confidence, but with an anxious glance at the
baronet.

"If he does, after witnessing the return you have made me for standing
by you, he is a greater fool than I take him to be."

"Gently, gently," said the clergyman. "There is much excuse to be made
for the poor fellow."

"As gently as you please with any man that is a free man at heart," said
Trefusis; "but slaves must be driven, and this fellow is a slave to the
marrow."

"Still, we must be patient. He does not know--"

"He knows a great deal better than you do," said Lady Brandon,
interrupting. "And the more shame for you, because you ought to know
best. I suppose you were educated somewhere. You will not be satisfied
with yourself when your bishop hears of this. Yes," she added, turning
to Trefusis with an infantile air of wanting to cry and being forced
to laugh against her will, "you may laugh as much as you please--don't
trouble to pretend it's only coughing--but we will write to his bishop,
as he shall find to his cost."

"Hold your tongue, Jane, for God's sake," said Sir Charles, taking her
horse by the bridle and backing him from Trefusis.

"I will not. If you choose to stand here and allow them to walk away
with the walls in their