voice sounded like the rasp of steel against steel.  "He did it—my husband. It's not the first time, Major Tristram. It won't be the last. He'll kill me—and he'll kill her."  She nodded towards the door. The words poured from her as though released from a long restraint, but she was coldly, violently coherent.  "Yes—he'll kill her—slowly, by inches. He'll break her. She'll go under fast. She's not like me—I'm wiry—she's hard, but she'll snap. For all her prayers and her church and her God, she'll go under."  Something contemptuous and angry crept into her face. "Anne's cowed already. And it's not only us. His men—they tried to shoot him. Did you hear?"

"It was no accident."  Her sobs had stopped. Her voice sounded like the rasp of steel against steel.  "

 did it—my husband. It's not the first time, Major Tristram. It won't be the last. He'll kill me—and he'll kill her."  She nodded towards the door. The words poured from her as though released from a long restraint, but she was coldly, violently coherent.  "Yes—he'll kill her—slowly, by inches. He'll break her. She'll go under fast. She's not like me—I'm wiry—she's hard, but she'll snap. For all her prayers and her church and her God, she'll go under."  Something contemptuous and angry crept into her face. "Anne's cowed already. And it's not only us. His men—they tried to shoot him. Did you hear?"

He nodded.

He nodded.

"Yes."

"Yes."

Her eyes blazed.

Her eyes blazed.

"Oh, I wish to God they'd done it!" she burst out, from between clenched teeth.  "Oh, why didn't they? He's goaded them enough. One of these days they'll murder us all for his sake. He's a devil. He's made life a hell. He likes to make suffering. He likes to see us wince. Oh, if he were only dead!"  Suddenly the tense mask of hatred broke up into piteous lines of helpless misery. Two great tears rolled unheeded down her white cheeks.  "Anne talked about bearing our cross, and prayer, and God's will," she went on chokingly.  "But I want to be happy, Major 

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