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"Donal Grant, by George MacDonald"

He had not yet rehooked it, when Forgue was upon him with
a second blow of his whip. The horse was scared afresh at the
sound, and it was all he could do to hold him, but he succeeded at
length in calming him. When he looked about him, Forgue was gone.
He led the horse into the stable, put him in his stall, and
proceeded to unsaddle him. Then first he was re-aware of the
presence of Davie. The boy was stamping--with fierce eyes and white
face--choking with silent rage.
"Davie, my child!" said Donal, and Davie recovered his power of
speech.
"I'll go and tell my father!" he said, and made for the stable door.
"Which of us are you going to tell upon?" asked Donal with a smile.
"Percy, of course!" he replied, almost with a scream. "You are a
good man, Mr. Grant, and he is a bad fellow. My father will give it
him well. He doesn't often--but oh, can't he just! To dare to
strike you! I'll go to him at once, whether he's in bed or not!"
"No, you won't, my boy! Listen to me. Some people think it's a
disgrace to be struck: I think it a disgrace to strike. I have a
right over your brother by that blow, and I mean to keep it--for his
good. You didn't think I was afraid of him?"
"No, no; anybody could see you weren't a bit afraid of him. I would
have struck him again if he had killed me for it!"
"I don't doubt you would. But when you understand, you will not be
so ready to strike.


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