"Will you have done?--Do not tell me of--It cannot, and It can. It has
been done before,--and it shall be done again. Let him dispute it that
dares! I will do it now and stand to it afterwards. Tell Swineard,--if
he make the least boggling, it is as much as his life is worth;--he
shall starve by inches."

"Pray, your honour, think better of it. Upon my life, the whole country
will cry shame of it."

"Barnes!--What do you mean? I am not used to be talked to, and I cannot
hear it! You have been a good fellow to me upon many occasions--But, if
I find you out for making one with them that dispute my authority, damn
my soul, if I do not make you sick of your life!"

"I have done, your honour. I will not say another word except this,--I
have heard as how that Miss Emily is sick a-bed. You are determined, you
say, to put her in jail. You do not mean to kill her, I take it,"

"Let her die! I will not spare her for an hour--I will not always be
insulted. She had no consideration for me, and I have no mercy for
her.--I am in for it! They have provoked me past bearing,--and they
shall feel me! Tell Swineard, in bed or up, day or night, I will not
hear of an instant's delay."

Such were the directions of Mr. Tyrrel, and in strict conformity to his
directions were the proceedings of that respectable limb of the law he
employed upon the present occasion. Miss Melville had been delirious,
through a considerable part of the day on the evening of which the
bailiff and his follower arrived. By the direction of the physician whom