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THREE:"I tell you, steward," said the smith who had before spoken, and stepping so near Calverley that he involuntarily drew back, "if you prize your life, you will call no man here a bondman. I am free��that man is free��" pointing to Holgrave, "and we are all free��all sworn brothers; and no one shall dare," raising his voice, "to brand, with such a name, a mother's son among us! You have received fair warning, and leave to go: retire now��instantly, if you are wise! Clear a passage there for my Lord de Boteler's steward! There is now room for you to pass��your retainers are waiting without��and now take the man you call a bondman, and away with you all. What! you will not lay hold of him? Take him, I say!" elevating his voice��"seize the villein, and drag him back to his bondage! What! not a finger, after all the trouble you have taken?��then, away with you alone!��away!" And Calverley, from the mere instinct of obedience to a superior power, moved towards the door. "And if ever," continued the smith, "you are found hunting in this forest again for bondmen, as you call them, we may chance to give you a lodging where you will have little reason to complain that the sun shines too brightly!"The afternoon was very still and soft. It was full of the smell of apples��of apples warm and sunny on the trees, of apples fallen and rotting in the grass, of apples dry and stored in the loft. There were little apples on the walls of the house, and their skins were warm and bursting in the heat.

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THREE:"Have you looked in the new field?""It's late��I��I must go home."

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THREE:He kept his body motionless, but in his heart strange things were moving. That hatred which had run through him like a knife just before he lost consciousness in the battle of Boarzell, suddenly revived and stabbed him again. It was no longer without focus, and it was no longer without purpose. Boarzell ... the name seemed to dance before him in letters of fire and blood. He was suffering for Boarzell��his father had not been robbed, for his father did not care, but he, Reuben, had been robbed��and he had fought for Boarzell on Boarzell, and now he was bearing shame and pain for Boarzell. Somehow he had never till this day, till this moment, been so irrevocably bound to the land he had played on as a child, on which he had driven his father's cattle, which had broken with its crest the sky he gazed on from his little bed. Boarzell was his, and at the same time he hated Boarzell. For some strange reason he hated it as much as those who had taken it from him and as those who were punishing him because of it. He wanted to tame it, as a man tames a bull, with a ring in its nose.

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