CHAPTER IIIThe Mink he couches underground,
Beneath the earth he lies;
He hears the fox’s mournful yell,
And knows he must arise.
“Too many lads have hunted been,
Too many women slain!”
The Mink he takes his pick in hand
To end the gentry’s reign.
—Ruck’s Ballad of the Mink
* * * *
The Lady Nirea thought a moment—she never attacked any new problem without thinking beforehand—and then she began to struggle. This rucker who had her over his shoulder, with a death-grip on her legs and her head hanging down his back, was plainly insane. No man of his low position was ever insane enough to actually harm a squire’s daughter; so if she kicked and bit, he would either drop her or—
Well, it was the “or.” He reached up and slapped her on the rear. Hard. She opened her eyes wide. No one ha
