Let me by on my business, or I may mark you for a second time." Silas lifted his beechen stick.

The laborers, roused to some rude sense of the serious turn which the quarrel was taking, got between the two men, and parted them.

I had been hurriedly dressing myself while the altercation was proceeding; and I now ran downstairs to try what my influence could do toward keeping the peace at Morwick Farm.
The war of angry words was still going on when I joined the men outside.
"Be off with you on your business, you cowardly hound!" I heard Silas say.

"Be off with you to the town! and take care you don't meet Ambrose on the way!" "Take _you_ care you don't feel my knife again before I go!" cried the other man.
Silas made a desperate effort to break away from the laborers who were holding him.
"Last time you only felt my fist!" he shouted "Next time you shall feel _this!_" He lifted the stick as he spoke.

I stepped up and snatched it out of his hand.
"Mr.Silas," I said, "I am an invalid, and I am going out for a walk.
Your stick will be useful to me.