"You know what I say is true. You came here without my desiring it! I don't want anything to do with you.... Haven't you both harmed me enough?... Do I ever come around and hurt you?... Why don't you tell the truth?"
"All right," he shouted, his irritation at her resistance overcoming his fear of the elder. "If you want the truth, here it is. I'm----"
"Don't! Don't!" screamed Tess.
"Ah!" hissed Waldstricker's lips like a jet of steam.
He'd caught within his powerful net the girl he wanted. He'd bring to light the secret that'd preyed upon his sister's spirits so long. For the squatter girl he felt no pity, for Frederick only contempt. They were both weaklings that he'd sweep away in his pursuit of Young and the squatters.
"He's sick," said Tessibel, trying to discount Frederick's confession. "Your brother-in-law's sick. You can see that!... He thinks ... why, he's mad!"
"I'm not mad!" Frederick turned upon her fiercely, then back to the big man whose eagerness bent him forward. "I'm the father of her boy."
The blood left Waldstricker's face, so that it looked like carved marble.
"So 'tis so," he got out, "and you admit it, you cur, and you dared to marry my sister? Now, as God lets me live, you'll both suffer for this, and as for you, Tessibel Skinner, look out for that bastard of yours!"
The squatter girl uttered a heart-broken cry, and turning, fled around the rocks into the lane and up the hill.