He thought her movement was one of contempt, and
turned upon her savagely.
"And there is yet another way," he hissed, bending towards her. "I swear
to God I will use it rather than let you go. A careless word or two
shall easily suffice to smirch your fair fame. Ah! that has power to
rouse you, has it? I will do it, and for very shame you shall have to
listen to me."
Still she did not answer him. Silence had served her well. He had shown
himself to her in all the blackness of his soul. He might kill her, but
there were worse things than death. She would remain silent. And the
coach rolled on, now in darkness, now in the misty light of the moon.
There was a dip in the road that every coach-driver knew, a sudden stiff
descent into a thick wood, the trees arching and mingling their
branches, almost like a lofty green tunnel, and then a sharp ascent.
Drivers usually let their horses go, so that the impetus of the descent
would help to carry them up the opposite incline, for the road was
loose, and, with a full load of passengers, the climb tested the
strength of the best teams. Lonely Bottom it was called, and well named,
for there was no more deserted spot along the road.
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