'Grandfather and little Nan!' screamed Martha; 'get into the house this minute! It's no use you men coming up here on this errand. You know grandfather's simple, and he hasn't sold the house; how could he? He's no more sense than little Nan. No, no; you must go down to the works, and hear what Stephen says. You're a pack of rascals, every one of you, and the master's the biggest; and you'll all have to gnash your teeth over this business some day, I reckon.' By this time the old man and the child were safely within the house; and Martha, springing quickly from the wicket, where she had kept the men at bay, followed them in, and barred the door, before any one of the labourers could thrust his shoulder in to prevent her. They held a consultation together when they found that no arguments prevailed upon her to open to them, to which Martha listened disdainfully through the large chinks, but vouchsafed no answer. 'Come, come, my lass,' said William Morris soothingly; 'it's lost time and strength, thee contending with the master. I don't like the business; but our orders are clear, and we must obey them. Thee let us in, and we'll carry the things down to the cinder-hill cabin for thee. If thee won't open the door, we'll be forced to take the thatch off.' 'I won't,' answered Martha,--'not for the lord of the manor himself. The house is ours, and I 'ware any of you to touch it. Go down to Stephen and hear what he'll say. If thee takes the thatch off, thee shan't move me out.' But when the old stove-pipe, through which the last breath of the household fire had passed, was drawn up, and the blue sky could be seen through the cloud of dust and dirt with which the hut was filled, choking the helpless old man and the frightened child, Martha's courage failed her; and she went out, with little Nan clinging round her, and spoke as calmly to the invaders as her rising sobs would let her. 'You know it's grandmother's own house,' she said; 'and the lord of the manor himself has no right to it. But I'll go down and fetch Stephen, if you'll only wait.' 'We daren't wait, Martha,' answered Morris kindly; 'and it's no use, lass; the master's too many for thee. But thee go down to Stephen; and we'll move the things safe, as if they were our own, and put them where they'll not be broken; and we'll take care of little Nan and thy poor old grandfather. Tell Stephen we're desperately cut up about it ourselves; but, if we hadn't done it, somebody that has no good-will towards him would have taken the job. So go thy poor ways with thee, my lass; we are main sorry for thee and Stephen.'