At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. The unfortunate woman was stretched upon the floor, with a bloody knife in her hand. She will sail, at early dawn to-morrow, for Rotterdam. But native! She must watch out. In fine, to marry Ruth (if she would consent) as a punishment for what he had done! To whip his soul so long as he lived, but to let his body go free! To provide for her, to work and dream for her, to be tender and thoughtful and loyal, to shelter and guard her, to become accountable to God for her future. He is coming here to tea. She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. Suddenly she had become afraid. ‘Is that a gesture of friendship?’ She stamped her foot.
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