Suddenly, Wakem felt, something had arrested Mr Tulliver’s arm; for the flogging ceased, and the grasp on his own arm was relaxed.
“ Get away with you—go!” said Tulliver, angrily. But it was not to Wakem that he spoke. Slowly the lawyer rose, and, as he turned his head, saw that Tulliver’s arms were being held by a girl, rather by the fear of hurting the girl that clung to him with all her young might.
“ Oh, Luke—mother—come and help Mr Wakem!” Maggie cried, as she heard the longed-for footsteps.
“ Help me on to that low horse,” said Wakem to Luke, “then I shall perhaps manage; though—confound it—I think this arm is sprained.”
With some difficulty, Wakem was heaved on to Tulliver’s horse. Then he turned toward the miller and said, with white rage, “You’ll suffer for this, sir. Your
