I'll go along to the house with you and get the lantern.

It's getting too dark to do the work here." David drew his daughter along, out of the barn, across the snowy yard to the house, she pleading frantically all the way, he soothing her with his sudden wisdom of assent and evasion.
The hearth fire was blazing high when Madelon entered the kitchen.
The red glare of it was on her white face, upturned to her father's with one last pleading of despair.

She clutched his arm and shook his great frame to and fro.
"Father, promise me you'll go over to New Salem to-night and tell them to set him free and take me instead! Father!" "We'll see about it, Madelon," answered David Hautville.

There was a tone in his voice which she had never heard before.

It might have come unconsciously to himself from some memory, so old that it was itself forgotten, of his dead wife's voice over the child in her cradle.