Her appearance and her manner struck the conspirators with
terror. Bartley stood aghast; but the more resolute villain seized her as
she passed him. She was not a bit frightened at that, but utterly amazed.
It was a public road.
"How dare you touch me, you villain!" she cried. "Let me go. Ah, I shall
know you again, with your face like a corpse and your villainous eyes.
Let me go, or I'll have you hung."
"Where are you going?" said Bartley, trembling.
"To my father."
"He is not your father; it is a conspiracy. You must come home with me."
"Never!" cried Mary, and by a sudden and violent effort she flung
Monckton off.
But Bartley, mad with terror, seized her that moment, and that gave
Monckton time to recover and seize her again by the arm.
"You are not of age," cried Bartley; "you are under my authority, and you
shall come home with me."
"No! no!" cried Mary. "Help! help! murder! help!"
She screamed, and struggled so violently that with all their efforts
they could hardly hold her. Then the devil Monckton began to cry louder
still, "She's mad! she's mad! help to secure a mad woman.
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