"Ho! Don't she," screamed Mrs. Narby, and darting forward, gave Elspeth a swinging slap on the cheek, "an' she means thet too, y' hussy. Git back to yer kennel, y'----"
What she would have said, what she would have done, it is impossible to say, as she had quite lost her head; but while Elspeth, sick with pain and shame, leaned against the wall, Sweetlips Kind caught the virago's arm, and swung her round. She scratched his face with a volley of bad language, and Narby saw that it was time to interfere.
"'Liza 'Liza! stop," he said in a low, firm voice.
"Lemme go, lemme git at thet--thet----" rage choked her.
"Elspeth will come this night with me to the caravan, said Kind, and the girl started, half with joy, half with fear. She would have liked to join the vagrant life of the Kinds, which would be better than the dog's existence she was leading at the inn; but then Herries was there, and Kind did not know that now she was engaged to Herries.
"She sha'n't go," shouted Mrs. Narby, only restrained by her husband's strong arm from falling bodily on Elspeth. "She's mine. Her father lef' her in my charge. She daren't go."
"Daren't," echoed the girl, raising her head dauntlessly. "If that is what you say, Mrs. Narby, I go now. My father left me here to pay off by my work, a miserable week's lodging. I have slaved for an entire year, and now I am free to leave." She walked to the door.
"Stop her! Stop her!" cried the landlady, thinking--and very rightly--that never again would she get so obedient and willing a slave.
"No one dare stop me," said Elspeth, turning at the door, "I leave your service at this moment."
"Where are you going on this wet night?" asked Narby gruffly.
"That is my business. And when next you get a servant, I advise you to stop your wife from ill-treating her as she has ill-treated me."
"That's hactionable," cried the landlady savagely.
"Make it so, and take me into court. My evidence would do you no good, Mrs. Narby."
The virago saw that she had gone too far, and that the sympathies of the room were with the frail girl, who thus faced her so boldly. She fell back on whimpering. "And arter wot I've done fur 'er. Whoy, 'er mother couldn't 'ave----"
She got no further. With a disdainful look, Elspeth pushed open the door and went out into the rain, which was now falling fast. Mrs. Narby would have followed, but her husband held her back.
