Bad, bad you be--bad as that lyin', false, lost
sinner theer--a-draggin' out your cant o' forgiveness an' foolin' a damned
sawl wi' falsehoods. _You_ knaws wheer she'm gwaine; an' your
squeakin', time-servin' passon knaws; an' you both tells her differ'nt!"
"Out on 'e, you stone-hearted wretch o' a man!" began Uncle Chirgwin in a
small voice, shaking with anger; but the fisherman had not said his last
word, and roared the other down. Gray Michael's self-control was less than
usual; his face had grown very red and surcharged veins showed black on the
unwrinkled sides of his forehead.
"No more, not a word. Get you gone an' never agin set foot 'pon this here
draxel. [Footnote: _Draxel_--Threshold.] Never--never none o' Chirgwin
breed. Gaw! or auld as you be, I'll force 'e! God's on the side o' right!"
Hereupon Joan, not judging correctly of the black storm signs on her
father's face or the force of the voice, now grating into a shriek as
passion tumbled to flood, prayed yet again for that pardon which her parent
was powerless to grant. The boon denied grew precious in her eyes. She wept
and importuned, falling on her knees to him.
"God can do it, God can do it, faither. Please--please, for the sake o' the
God as leads you, forgive. Oh, God in heaven, make en forgive me--'tis all
I wants."
But a religious delirium gripped Tregenza and poisoned the blood in him.
His breast rose, his fists clinched, his mouth was dragged sidewise and his
underlip shook.
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