"Eat then, if you will, mother," said Mehalah; "but I cannot. I have no hunger;" after a pause, firmly, "I will not."
"Oh, you have a will indeed," remarked Rebow with a growl. " A will it would be a pleasure to break, and I'll do it."
The bacon was fried, and the widow proceeded to dish it up. There was a rack in the next room, as Elijah told her, with plates in it, and there were knives and forks in the drawer.
Whilst the old woman was getting the necessary articles, Rebow was silent, seated in his leather chair, his elbows on his knees, with the pipe in one hand, and his head turned on one side, watching Mehalah out of his fierce, crafty eyes. The girl had seated herself on a chair against the wall, as far away from him as possible. Her arms were folded over her breast, and her head was bent, to avoid encountering his glance. She was angry with her mother for staying to eat with the man whom she hated.
During this quiet—neither speaking—a curious grating noise reached her ear, and then a clank like that of a chain. She could not quite make out whence the noise came. It was some little while before it sufficiently attracted her attention to make her consider about it; and before she had formed any conclusion, her mother returned, and spread the table, and placed the meat on a dish.
"I'll go and fetch the liquor," said Rebow, and went away. Whilst he was absent, again the sound met the girl's ears. Neither she nor her mother had spoken, but now she said, "Listen, mother, what is that sound?"
The old woman stood still for a moment, and then proceeded with her task.
"It is nothing," she said indifferently, "the sound comes up from below the floor. I reckon Master Rebow has cows fastened there."
"By a chain," added Mehalah, and dismissed the matter from her mind; the explanation satisfied her.
Rebow returned the next moment with a bottle.
"This is prime spirit, this is," said he. "You can't drink water here, it gives the fever. You must add spirits to it to make it harmless."
