"The dew hangs dank and heavy on
these branches; and a longer stay would be more dangerous than you are
aware."
Ellen would fain have resisted; but though the tears hung as heavy on her
eyelashes, between shame and anger, as the dew upon the leaves, she felt
compelled to accept the arm that he offered her. But the stranger, who,
since Fanshawe's approach, had remained a little apart, now advanced.
"You speak as one in authority, young man," he said. "Have you the means
of compelling obedience? Does your power extend to men? Or do you rule
only over simple girls? Miss Langton is under my protection, and, till you
can bend me to your will, she shall remain so."
Fanshawe turned calmly, and fixed his eyes on the stranger. "Retire, sir,"
was all he said.
Ellen almost shuddered, as if there were a mysterious and unearthly power
in Fanshawe's voice; for she saw that the stranger endeavored in vain,
borne down by the influence of a superior mind, to maintain the boldness
of look and bearing that seemed natural to him. He at first made a step
forward, then muttered a few half-audible words; but, quailing at length
beneath the young man's bright and steady eye, he turned and slowly
withdrew.
Fanshawe remained silent a moment after his opponent had departed, and,
when he next spoke, it was in a tone of depression.
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