‘Now, just listen to me, young Fern,’ said Thomas Wyley; ’you’ll be compelled to give up Fern’s Hollow in right of the lord of the manor; and then if you come to the House for relief, mark my words, I’ll send your grandfather off to Bristol, for that’s his parish, and you’ll never see him again; and I’ll give orders for you never to see little Nan; and I’ll apprentice you and your other sister in different places.  So you had better be reasonable, and take our advice while you can be made comfortable.’

‘Please, sir, I can’t go against my promise,’ answered Stephen, with a sob.

‘What’s the use of wasting one’s breath?’ said the master; ’this place I want, and this place I’ll have; and we’ll see if this young jail-bird will stand in my way.  Ah, my fine fellow, it’s no such secret where your grandfather spent twenty-one years of his life; and you’ll have a sup of the same broth some day.  You don’t keep a dog like that yelping cur for nothing; and I’ll tell the gamekeeper to have his eye upon you.’

Stephen stood motionless, watching them down the narrow path which led to Botfield, until a rabbit started from beneath the hedge, and Snip, with a sharp, short bark of excitement, gave it chase in the direction of the two men.  The master paused, and, looking back, shook his stick threateningly at the motionless figure of the boy; while Thomas Wyley threw a stone at the dog, which sent him back, yelping piteously, to his young master’s feet.  Stephen clenched his hands, and bit his lips till the blood started, but he did not move till the last glimpse of his foes had passed away from the hillside.  Martha had hidden herself in the hut while they were present, for she had never spoken to the dreaded master; but she could overhear their loud and angry speeches, and now she came out and joined Stephen.

‘Well, I’d have more spirit than to cry,’ she said, as Stephen brushed his eyes with his sleeve; ’I’d never have spoken so gingerly to them, the wizen-faced old rascals.  The place is ours, and they can’t turn us out.  It’s no use to be cowed by them, Stephen.’

‘They can turn me off the works,’ answered Stephen sadly.

‘And whatever shall we do then?’ asked Martha, in alarm.  ’Still I reckon you’ll say we are to love those old wretches.’

‘The Book says so,’ replied Stephen.

‘Well, I won’t set up to try to do it for one,’ continued Martha decisively; ’it’s not nature; it’s being over good by half.  I’m willing to do my duty by you and grandfather and little Nan; but that goes beyond me.  If you’d just give way, Stevie, and give them a good rating, you’d feel better after it.’