The woman could bear it no longer; she felt herself ready to explode.
But just as fear and rage rose irrepressibly inside her, she
instinctively channeled the outburst to lead him away from her son.
"Have you no shame, sir! My son is dead and buried these three years,
as a short walk to the gravesite of our clan will plainly show. He was
a brother and father both to my niece, and as fine a man as you could
ask. You will not speak against his honor in my house! He was willing
to die to stand up to the likes of you, and so am I. Kill
me, if you have the courage. By God, I'll listen to no more of this!"
"Careful, Mrs. Scott. You say your son lies yonder in the grave, but
that too could be a hoax. I have unearthed two bodies already. I will
not hesitate---"
This was too much for her. For the first time in her life, hatred
flared into animal violence.
"You will do no such thing! Check the funeral record at the vestry,
then take yourself to the Devil!" Seizing her husband's stout walking
stick from its place in the corner she flew at him, screaming.
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