ws."

But Hyssop wouldn't put it off no more; she said as she'd not have any
further peace till the murder was out. And that very night, sure enough
when Jonathan comed over from Dunnabridge for his bit of love-making,
and the young couple had got the farm parlor to themselves, she plumped
it out, finding him in a very kindly mood. They never cuddled much, for
he wasn't built that way; but he'd not disdain to sit beside her and
put his arm around her now and again, when she picked up his hand and
drew it round. Then, off and on, she'd rub her cheek against his
mutton-chop whiskers, till he had to kiss her in common politeness.

Well, Hyssop got it out--Lord alone knows how, as she said afterwards.
She got it out, and told him that an old, aged cousin had died, and left
her a nice little skuat[1] of money; and how she'd never touched a penny
but let it goody in the bank; and how she prayed and hoped 'twould help
'em to Dunnabridge; and how, of course, he must have the handling of it,
being a man, and so cruel clever in such things. She went on and on,
pretty well frightened to stop and hear him. But, after she'd said it
over about a dozen times, her breath failed her, and she shut her mouth,
and tried to smile, and looked up terrible anxious and pleading at
Jonathan.

His hard gray eyes bored into her like a brace of gimlets, and in return
for all her talk he axed but one question.

"How long have you had this here money?" he said.

She told the truth, faltering and shaking under his glare.

"Four years and upwards, Jonathan."

"That's years and years afore I axed you to marry me?"

"Yes, Jonathan."

"And you remember what I said about never marrying anybody as had more
than what I have?"

"Yes, Jonathan."

"And you full know how many a time I told you that, after I paid off all
my father's debts, I had nought left, and 'twould be years afore I could
build up anything to call money?"

"Yes, Jonathan."

"Very well, then!" he cried out, and his brow crooked down and his fists
clenched. "Very well, you've deceived me deliberate, and if you'd do
that in one thing, you would in another. I'm going out of this house
this instant moment, and you can tell your relations why 'tis. I'm
terrible sorry, Hyssop Burges, for no man will ever love you better than
what I did; and so you'd have lived to find out when all this here
courting tomfoolery was over, and you'd come to be my wife. But now I'll
have none of you, fo