"Mother," she said sharply; "who has been drinking here?"
The old woman pretended not to hear the question, and began to poke the fire.
"Mother, has Elijah Rebow been drinking spirits out of this glass?"
"To be sure, Mehalah, he did just take a drop."
"Whence did he get it?"
"Don't you think it probable that such a man as he, out much on the marshes, should carry a bottle about with him? Most men go provided against the chill who can afford to do so."
"Mother," said the girl impatiently, "you are deceiving me. I know he got the spirits here, and that you have had them here for some time. I insist on being told how you came by them."
The old woman made feeble and futile attempts to evade answering her daughter directly; but was at last forced to confess that on two occasions, of which this evening was one, Elijah Rebow had brought her a small keg of rum.
"You do not grudge it me, Mehalah, do you? It does me good when I am low after my fits."
"I do not grudge it you," answered the girl; "but I do not choose you should receive favours from that man. He has to-day been threatening us, and yet secretly he is making you presents. Why does he come here? She looked full in her mother's face. "Why does he give you these spirits? He, a man who never did a good action but asked a return in fourfold measure. I promise you, mother, if he brings here any more, that I will stave in the cask and let the liquor you so value waste away."
The widow made piteous protest, but her daughter remained firm.
"Now," said the girl, "this point is settled between us. Be sure I will not go back from my word. I will in nothing be behoven to the man I abhor. Now let me count the money." She caught up the bag, then put it down again. She lit a candle at the hearth, drew her chair to the table, seated herself at it, untied the string knotted about the neck of the pouch, and poured the contents upon the board.
