aid Tulliver; “I want no drinking to help me make up my mind as I’ll serve no longer under a scoundrel.”
“Very well! you may leave my premises to-morrow, then; hold your insolent tongue and let me pass.” (Tulliver was backing his horse across the road to hem Wakem in.)
“No, I sha’n’t let you pass,” said Tulliver, getting fiercer. “I shall tell you what I think of you first. You’re too big a raskill to get hanged — you’re ——”
“Let me pass, you ignorant brute, or I’ll ride over you.”
Mr. Tulliver, spurring his horse and raising his whip, made a rush forward; and Wakem’s horse, rearing and staggering backward, threw his rider from the saddle and sent him sideways on the ground. Wakem had had the presence of mind to loose the bridle at once, and as the horse only staggered a few paces and then stood Viktor Claesson Drakter still, he might have risen and remounted without more inconvenience than a bruise and a shake. But before he could rise, Tulliver was off his horse too. The sight of the long-hated predominant man down, and in his power, threw Marc-Andre ter Stegen Drakter him into a frenzy of triumphant vengeance, which seemed to give him preternatural Originals For Atmos Relace agility and strength. He rushed on Wakem, who was in the act of trying to recover his feet, grasped him by the left arm so as to press Wakem’s whole weight on the right arm, which rested on the Alessandro Guarnone Drakter ground, and flogged him fiercely across the back with his riding-whip. Wakem shouted for help, but no help came, until a woman’s scream was heard, and the cry of “Father, father!”
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 Jaelene Hinkle Drakter his head, saw that Tulliver’s arms Will Keane Drakter were being held by a Outdoor Climacool Boat 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 David Luiz Drakter 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 Joao Carlos Teixeira Drakter on to Tulliver’s horse. Then he turned toward the miller and said, with white rage, “You’ll suffer for this, sir. Your daughter is a witness that you’ve assaulted me.”
“I don’t care,” said Mr. Tulliver, in a thick, fierce voice; “go and show your back, and tell ’em I thrashed you. Tell ’em I’ve made things a bit more even i’ the world.”
“Ride my horse home with me,” said Wakem to Luke. “By the Tofton Ferry, not through the town.”
“Father, come in!” said Maggie, imploringly. Then, seeing that Wakem had ridden Borussia Dortmund off, and that no further violence was possible, she slackened her hold and Guilherme Siqueira Drakter burst into hysteric sobs, while Kyle Walker-Peters Drakter poor Mrs. Tulliver stood by in silence, quivering with fear. But Maggie became conscious that as she was slackening her holdlinks:
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