Two little rivulets of blood were trickling over her temple.
'I say, fayther, look at that,' she said, with a strange tremulous smile,
lifting her hand, which was smeared with blood.
Perhaps he was ashamed, and the more enraged on that account, for he
growled another curse, and started afresh to reach her, whirling his stick
in the air. Our voices, however, arrested him.
'My uncle shall hear of your brutality. The poor girl!'
'Strike him, Meg, if he does it again; and pitch his leg into the river
to-night, when he's asleep.'
'I'd serve _you_ the same;' and out came an oath. 'You'd have her lick her
fayther, would ye? Look out!'
And he wagged his head with a scowl at Milly, and a flourish of his cudgel.
'Be quiet, Milly,' I whispered, for Milly was preparing for battle; and I
again addressed him with the assurance that, on reaching home, I would tell
my uncle how he had treated the poor girl.
''Tis you she may thank for't, a wheedling o' her to open that gate,' he
snarled.
'That's a lie; we went round by the brook,' cried Milly.
I did not think proper to discuss the matter with him; and looking very
angry, and, I thought, a little put out, he jerked and swayed himself out
of sight.
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