These thoughts had shot through her mind in little bits at a time while she pushed through the thickets. There had been no time for connected plans or expectations. But now, lying secure in her dark and downy nest, she concluded that, after all, home was the only refuge for her. Her shoulders and arms were naked, her skirts were wringing wet, her shoes heavy with swamp mud, her legs were torn by briers and thorns, and her head began to feel queer. Her brain swam and swung; her skull seemed to be filled with boiling water which was trying to get out at her ears. They were deafened by the sound of the boiling, and the steam pressed on the back of her eyes. Her mouth was so dry that the surface of her tongue "crazed," as crockery goes into tiny cracks when overheated.
Yes, home was the place for her. She would meet with punishment there. In a strange half-sleep she heard herself whispering, "Not knowing the things that shall befall me there, save that bonds and afflictions await me." Rest and comfort could never be hers again. But home was better than the wide, wide, wicked world.
Awaking herself with an effort, she set in order what she should say when she got home. Her father would not believe that she had lied and cheated. But what would he say to the revenge that began to taste less sweet than at first? He would have to pay for Mr. Tayloe's spoiled clothes. She might even have to go to court to answer for her misdeed. Her spirit leaped up again at the thought. She would tell her story boldly to judge and jury, and show what had been done by "the wretch who was a disgrace to his cloth."
That sounded fine; but did "cloth" always mean a broadcloth coat? She had a notion that it was only "cloth" when black and on a clergyman's back. At any rate, she would defy the little monster. The memory of his grinning face and insulting tone stirred up the mire and dirt anew.
The cart had no springs. It jolted and bumped over the rough road, and rocked up and down: but she was used to the ways of the tumbler-cart, and Dick's singing was making her drowsy again. She would put off thinking until she got rested. Perhaps by then her ears would roar less and her head stop aching.
Creak and rumble! Seesaw! and fainter and further away sounded Dick's monotonous wail--
