"What does it matter, and whom does it hinder?" the man answered fiercely. "It hinders the Lord's work, woman! It matters to all Christian men! It hinders guns and horses, men and wagons, that should be at Preston to-morrow to cut off the malignant Hamilton and his brood. In twelve hours, if this rain continues, the road to Preston will be a quagmire, and the Philistines will laugh at us. But we must rest content. It is the Lord's doing!" "It is _not_ the Lord's doing!" she answered in a tone of surprising emotion. "It is not his doing! It is Satan's!" "Tush!" said her husband, harshly; but he started nevertheless at her tone. "You rave, woman!" [Illustration: "It is not the Lord's doing!"--Page 138.] "I do not rave!" she answered, throwing up her arms wildly. "I tell you this tempest, that you talk of--I saw it raised! This hindrance--I saw it begotten! I--I, Simon Gridley! There is one here who can brew the storm and hush the whirlwind! There is one here beside whom your General is powerless!" "Then he must have the devil's aid indeed!" Simon answered, with a grim chuckle. "But softly, wife, what is this?" In rapid, hurried words, rendered weighty by the terror and belief which were in her, the woman detailed what she had seen the boy do, and how the storm, of which the heavens had given so little warning, had followed immediately thereon. She could not tell them all the bases of her belief; she dared not mention the gold vessels, or the strange scene under the yew-tree. But belief in such things is infectious. The mystery of the locked door was still a mystery unsolved and inexplicable. That they all knew; and nothing in the solitary life these people had led among the fells, nothing in the harsh, narrow creed they professed, or in their custom of literally applying the Scriptures to everyday events, was at odds with the conclusion that the child was possessed by an evil spirit. No one in that day was so bold as to doubt the existence of the black art. And if at the first glance this helpless child seemed the most unlikely of professors, the discovery that his powers were being used against the cause which they believed to be the cause of heaven, furnished a probability which enabled them to dispense with the other. The men looked in each other's faces uneasily. The light was waning, the corners of the room were full of shadows. Those who felt no terror felt wrath, which was near akin to it. For the woman, her eyes flickered with hatred; which was only more intense because it was held in check by abject fear. At length Simon, whose bold and hardy spirit alone accepted the idea with any real reluctance, rose; they had long ago formed themselves into a council round the table. "Hush!" he said, raising his hand. "The rain has stopped. What do you say to that?" They listened and found that it was so. The eaves no longer dripped.