"You look like a veritable ghost," said Kate, still brimming over
with pity and indignation. "What did that miserable man do to you?"

"Why, naught that he has not done a score of times before--tied me
to the pillar and flogged me like a dog. Only he laid his blows on
something more fiercely than is his wont, and doubled the number of
them. Perchance he had some sort of inkling that it was his last
chance, and used it accordingly."

The bare trees did not screen the beams of the moon, and both
Philip and Kate could see the expression on Cuthbert's face. What
they read there caused Kate to ask suddenly and eagerly:

"What meanest thou by that, Cuthbert? What plan hast thou in thine
head?"

"Why, a mighty simple one--so simple that I marvel I have not
carried it out before. I could not live worse were I to beg my
bread from door to door, and I should at least have my liberty; and
if whipped for a vagabond, should scarce be so badly used as my
father uses me. Moreover, I have a pair of strong arms and some
book learning; and I trow I need never sink to beggary. I mind not
what I do. I will dig the fields sooner than be worse treated than
a dog. My mind is made up. I have left my father's house never to
return. I am going forth into the world to see what may befall me
there, certain that nothing can be worse than what I have left
behind."

"Thou hast run away from thy cruel father? Marry, that is good