He then descended; and having induced Bess to take off some part of her clothing, he tore the gown and petticoat into shreds and twisted them into a sort of rope which he fastened to the lower bars of the window. “You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. But there was a face pressed to the glass. She never knew what became of her farmer after that. Take your pick, Mrs. Sindlesham tried. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist.
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