“But after five years!” exclaimed Margeret. “Do you think that he could bring evil to my father now?” “My thought is that he has given over the hope of harming Master Simon and wants only to strike at you and me. I have heard that he often says that the teaching of children is no work for women, that you should not be mistress of the school and that he could tell strange tales of you if he wished. He has brought up again the words of that mad Scotch minister who said that your father was a wicked man and that his garden would be laid waste for his sins. The shoemaker has much to say of me also, and with this last accusation seeks to ruin the two of us, at last.” Margeret wrung her hands in helpless anxiety. “Are you sure of this, Roger?” she asked. “This much I know,” he told her. “On next Thursday, the market day, when all from the outlying houses will be in the village, he has urged the men to come up to the schoolhouse and see how their children are taught. Since you are the first woman to teach the school, he knows there are many who are still uncertain whether a maid can rule their sons and daughters. But I think that is not the whole of the mischief that he is planning. I wish I had no need to tell you of this, Margeret.” The girl drew a long breath and then looked up at Roger with calm, grave eyes. People said that even more than in face and figure Margeret Radpath was beginning to resemble her father. “We did no harm,” she said quietly, “and we will take what comes.” She said nothing to Master Simon of the brewing trouble, and on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday went bravely up to the schoolhouse, trying not to think of what was to come. Thursday arrived, a day of lowering clouds, of sharp, bitter winds and flurries of snow. As the day passed, even the children seemed to feel a restlessness that grew greater and greater as the closing time came near. Even before the last hour was at an end, Roger Bardwell entered quietly and seated himself near the fireplace. A few minutes later there came a loud rap at the door. It opened to reveal Goodman Allen. “I thought, Mistress Radpath,” he said, shuffling awkwardly upon the threshold, “that I would stop here a moment and hear how that lad of mine is faring with his lessons.” “Yes, come in,” said Margeret, “warm yourself by the fire and you shall hear your boy presently.”