The foam of his hunter splashed her, the mud from the stamping hoofs struck upwards on her face; but still she stood to defend the defenceless thing behind her.
She often wondered afterwards what Sir Beverley would have done had he been left to settle the matter in his own way.

She was horribly afraid, but she certainly would never have yielded to aught but brute force.
But at this juncture there came a sudden diversion.

Another voice made itself heard in furious protest.

Another horse was spurred forward; and Piers, white to the lips, with eyes of awful flame, leaned from his saddle and with his left hand caught Sir Beverley's bridle, dragging his animal back.
What he said Avery did not hear; it was spoken under his breath.

But she saw a terrible look flash like an evil spirit into Sir Beverley's face.
She saw his right arm go up, and heard his riding-crop descend with a sound like a pistol-shot upon Piers' shoulders.
It was a horrible sight and one which she was never to forget.