Rage flamed in Hazel's face--rage all the more destructive because it was caused by pity. Her father's calm taking for granted that Foxy's fate (and her own) depended on his whim and Edward's, the picture of Foxy tied up in a bag to be drowned--Foxy, who had all her love--infuriated her. Edward was troubled at the look in her eyes. He had not yet had much opportunity for seeing those wild red lights that burn in the eyes of the hunter, and are reflected in those of the hunted, and make life a lurid nightmare. The scene set his teeth on edge. 'Of course,' he said, and the recklessness of it was quite clear to him when he thought of his mother--'of course, the little fox shall come.' 'And the one-eyed cat and the blind bird and the old ancient rabbit, I'll wager!' queried Abel. 'Well, minister, you can set up a menagerie and make money.' 'They could go in bits of holes and corners,' Hazel put in anxiously, 'and nobody'd ever know they were there! And the bird chirrups lovely, fine days.' Abel shouted with laughter. 'Tuthree feathers and a beak!' he said. 'And the rabbit'd be comforbler a muff.' Edward hastily ended the discussion. 'Of course, they shall all come,' he said. Somehow, Hazel made the sheltering of these poor creatures a matter of religion. He found himself connecting them with the great 'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto these--' He had never seen the text in that light before. But he was dubious about the possibility of making his mother see it thus. 'They'll be much obleeged,' Hazel said. 'Come and see 'em.' She spoke as one conferring the freedom of a city. Foxy--very clean in her straw, smoothly white and brown, dignified, and golden of eye--looked mistrustfully at Edward and showed her baby white teeth. 'She'll liven the old lady up,' said Hazel. 'I'm afraid--' began Edward; and then--'she shows her teeth a good deal.' 'Only along of being frit.' 'She needn't be frightened. I'll take care of her and of you, and see that no harm comes to you.' The statement was received by the night--critical, attent--in a silence so deep that it seemed quizzical. On his way home he felt rather dismayed at his task, because he saw that in making Hazel happy he must make his mother unhappy. 'Ah, well, it'll all come right,' he thought, 'for He is love, and He will help me.' The sharp staccato sound of a horse cantering came up behind him. It was Reddin returning from a wide detour. He pulled up short. 'Is there any fiddler in your parish, parson?' he inquired. Edward considered. 'There is one man on the far side of the Mountain.' 'Pretty daughter?' 'No. He is only twenty.' 'Damn!' He was gone.