While Martina was lamenting with the women in the house, the whole troop of men, had arrived at the Parsonage, and Haespele offered to be spokesman. The children, too, begged hard to be allowed to go with the rest to look for Joseph, but their mothers began to cry and to hold them back, while the fathers shook them off impatiently, and scolded them soundly into the bargain. The decrepit old men, who had crept forth from their snug corners beside the stove, took the women and children home with them. It looked like the vanguard of an army advancing on the foe--but where was the foe? There were some, however, who declared that it was utterly absurd to seek a child in the forest, in such a storm and in such blinding snow; it would be exactly like looking for a needle in a haystack. Haespele, however, called out, "Those who don't like to go with us can stay behind, there is no need to coax any one to go." Not one person left them. Haespele went up stairs and entreated the Pastor to allow the alarm bell to be rung. The Pastor was much distressed on hearing about Joseph, but said, he could not permit the alarm bell to be sounded, for it would terrify the neighbouring parishes without sufficient cause, and make them reluctant perhaps to give their assistance on some future occasion. "It is good of you to go in such numbers to seek Joseph; I am glad to see it," said he in conclusion. "There is not a single young healthy man in the village staying behind," said Haespele. "I, however, am obliged to remain here," said the Pastor with a smile; "the Roettmaennin occupied all my time last night, and I must be ready for midnight service in the church--but we will all pray for those who are in the forest." "I will go instead of you," said his brother-in-law. "Who is your leader?" "We have none; will you be so good as to be our conductor, Herr brother-in-law?" All laughed, for Haespele, not knowing the young farmer's name, designated him simply as the Pastor's brother-in-law. "My name is Brand," said Edward; "I know the path, for I was there to-day." "The Pastorin's brother is going with us," was soon whispered into the street, and everyone was pleased. Haespele was right; with the exception of the sick and decrepit, every man in the village was present--they were all standing at the door with torches, iron spikes, ladders, axes, and long ropes. "Is there any one here who can make a signal?" asked Edward. The stocking weaver drew his horn from under his cloak. The instrument did not shine brighter in the torchlight than the face of the stocking weaver, who had suddenly become so important a personage.