But upon their love--Edward's dawn of content and Hazel's laughter--broke a loud imperious knocking. Edward went to the door. Outside stood Mr. James, the old man with the elf-locks who shared the honey prizes with Abel, two farmers from the other side of the Mountain, Martha's brother, and the man with the red braces who had won the race when Reddin turned. They coughed. 'Will you come in?' asked Edward. They straggled in, very much embarrassed. Hazel wished them good morning. 'This young woman,' Mr. James said, 'might, I think, absent herself.' 'Would you rather go or stay, Hazel?' 'Stay along of you, Ed'ard.' Hazel had divined that something threatened Edward. They sat down, very dour. Foxy had retired under the table. The shaggy old man surveyed the bird. 'A nice pet, a bird,' he said. 'Minds me of a throstle I kep' 'Now, now, Thomas! Business!' said Mr. James. 'Yes. Get to the point,' said Edward. James began. 'We've come, minister, six God-fearing men, and me spokesman, being deacon; and we 'ope as good will come of this meeting, and that the Lord'll bless our endeavour. And now, I think, maybe a little prayer?' 'I think not.' 'As you will, minister. There are times when folk avoid prayer as the sick avoid medicine.' James had a resonant voice, and it was always pitched on the intoning note. Also, he accented almost every other syllable. 'We bring you the Lord's message, minister. I speak for 'Im.' 'You are sure?' 'Has not He answered us each and severally with a loud voice in the night-watches?' 'Ah! He 'as! True! Yes, yes!' the crowd murmured. 'And what we are to say,' James went on, 'is that the adulteress must go. You must put her away at once and publicly; and if she will make open confession of the sin, it will be counted to you for righteousness.' Edward came and stood in front of Hazel. 'Had you,' James continued in trumpet tones--'had you, when she played the sinner with Mr. Reddin, Esquire, leading a respectable gentleman into open sin, chastened and corrected her--ay, given her the bread of affliction and the water of affliction and taken counsel with us--' 'Ah! there's wisdom in counsel!' said one of the farmers, a man with crafty eyes. 'Then,' James went on, 'all would 'a been well. But now to spare would be death.' 'Ah, everlasting death!' came the echoes. 'And now' (James' face seemed to Hazel to wear the same expression as when he pocketed the money)--'now there is but one cure. She must go to a reformatory. There she'll be disciplined. She'll be made to repent.' He looked as if he would like to be present. They all leant forward. The younger men were sorry for Edward. None of them was sorry for Hazel. There was a curious likeness, as they leant forward, between them and the questing hounds below. 'And then?' Edward prompted, his face set, tremors running along the nerves under the skin.