"My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. The man’s statement was explicit, and spoken with confidence. His blood would be sweet with it. "She is. Pull yourself together, Annabel! I must have the truth. The prospect of the gallows would never deter me from taking to the road, if I were so inclined. In spite of God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the elmtrees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in weeping.
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