"You have no beautiful spring here, as we have on the Ray," observed the widow.
"Not likely to have," answered the surly landlord. "Now sit down and eat. Come, Glory."
She did not move.
"Come, Mehalah, draw up your chair," said her mother.
"I am not going to eat," she answered resolutely.
"You shall," shouted Elijah, rising impetuously, and thrusting his chair back. "You are insulting me in my own house if you refuse to eat with me."
"I have no appetite."
"You will not eat, I heard you say so. I know the devilry of your heart. You will not, but I will." In his rage he stamped on the trap-door that he had uncovered when removing the chair. Instantly a prolonged, hideous howl rose from the depths and rang through the room. Mistress Sharland started back aghast. Mehalah raised her head, and the colour left her cheek.
"Oh ho!" roared Elijah. "You will join in also, will you?" He drew the bolts passionately back.
"Look here," he cried to Mehalah. "Come here!"
Involuntarily she obeyed, and looked down. She saw into a vault feebly illuminated by daylight through one of the circular windows she had noticed on approaching the house. There she saw looking up, directly under the trap, a face so horrible in its dirt and madness that she recoiled.
"She won't eat, she won't bite with me," shouted Rebow, "then neither shall her mother eat, nor will I. You shall have the whole." He caught up the dish, and threw down the rashers. The man below snapped, and caught like a wild beast, and uttered a growl of satisfaction.
Rebow flung the door back into its place, and rebolted it. Then he placed his chair in its former position, and looked composedly from the widow to Mehalah and seemed to draw pleasure from their fear.
"My brother," he explained. "Been mad from a child. A good job for me, as he was the elder. Now I have him in keeping, and the land and the house and the money are mine. What I hold, I hold fast. Amen."
