'You had him put out of your way as soon as he became inconvenient, when he had broken with you and set up for himself.'
'You have imagined all this. It is arrant falsehood. There is not a spice of truth in it. These are the fancies of a mad woman. You shall leave my house.'
'Yes, cast me forth now. I hope in my heart that it be true that Winefred has betrayed you. But I do not believe it. You, who betrayed my kin, ought in all justice to be betrayed in turn.'
'Leave my house,' shouted Job. 'I was unwise in taking you in to watch me and go behind me in what I take in hand. I swear I believe now that you sent your child to call the sharks together.'
'I do; you are capable of anything. Olver said as much. By my soul I know it. You would have killed your child had I not stayed you. And now in your crazy rage over fancied wrongs you would finish me. I see it in your tigerish eyes, in your wild and furious manner. You are not to be reasoned with, not to be trusted. Gather up your duds, and be gone.'
'Go after her――go to where the sharks are. They can give you an account of her. I allow you ten minutes to clear out――no more. Good Lord! what a loss is ours to-night, and all through you and your girl. If you were not a woman, I would strangle you.'
Jane cast herself at his knees. 'She is not with the coastguard. She knows nothing. Help me to find her. I will forgive what you did to Philip and my father.'
'Forgive!' he shouted. His face flamed. '_You_ forgive! That is news! Begone!' He stopped, caught her under the arms, lifted, carried her bodily, and flung her outside his door. 'I have harboured you too long. If either of you were dying on my doorstep, I would not open to take you in.'
The frantic woman lay in a heap at the door, crouching against it, in such a tumult of brain and heart, of distress at the loss of her child, and rage against the captain, that she was incapable of rising. She remained panting, biting her fingers, beating her head, and sobbing.
But the very violence of her emotions exhausted their force, and presently she rose to her feet and reeled away.
Whither should she go? In what direction look? Already a cold light was beginning to show over the Rousdon heights. A November day was at hand. The bushes deepened into intense blackness in contrast with the paling skies. The fangs of chalk seemed to gleam as teeth exposed against her.