WYLDER'S HJVVD.
257
and she laid her shrivelled, freckled hand upon his arm,
and looking with an earnest and fearful gaze in his face
she said —
"It has been on my mind this many a day to speak to
you, Master Stanley; but whenever I meant to summat
came over me, and I couldn't."
"Well, well, well," said Lake, uneasily; "I mean to
call to-morrow, or next day, or some day soon, at Red-
man's Farm. I'll hear it then; this is no place, you
know, Tamar, to talk in; besides I'm pressed for time,
and can't stay now to listen."
"Master Stanley, for the love of Heaven — you know
what I'm going to speak of; my old bones have carried
me here — 'tis years since I walked so far. I'd walk till
I dropped to reach you — but I'd say what's on my mind,
'tis like a message from Heaven — and I must speak —
aye, dear, I must."
"But I say I can't stay. Who made you a prophet?
You used not to be a fool. Tamar; when I tell you I can't,
that's enough."
Tamar did not move her fingers from the sleeve of his
coat, on which they rested, and that thin pressure mys-
teriously detained him.
"See, Master Stanley, if I don't say it to you, I must
to another," she said.
"You mean to threaten me, woman," said he with a
pale, malevolent look.
"I'm threatening nothing but the wrath of God, who
hears us."
"Unless you mean to do me an injury, Tamar, I don't
know what else you mean," he answered, in a changed
tone.
"Old Tamar will soon be in her coffin, and this night
far in the past, like many another, and 'twill be every-