his face, like ivy on a pollard oak, and under them two large brown eyes, as of an owl when muting. And he had a power of hiding his eyes, or showing them bright, like a blazing fire. He stood there with his beaver off, and mother tried to look at him, but he seemed not to descry her.
'Counsellor,' said Sir Ensor Doone, standing back in his height from him, 'here is a lady of good repute—'
'Oh, no, sir; only a woman.'
'Allow me, madam, by your good leave. Here is a lady, Counsellor, of great repute in this part of the country, who charges the Doones with having unjustly slain her husband—'
'Murdered him! murdered him!' cried my mother, 'if ever there was a murder. Oh, sir! oh, sir! you know it.'
'The perfect rights and truth of the case is all I wish to know,' said the old man, very loftily: 'and justice shall be done, madam.'
'Oh, I pray you—pray you, sirs, make no matter of business of it. God from Heaven, look on me!'
'Put the case,' said the Counsellor.
'The case is this,' replied Sir Ensor, holding one hand up to mother: 'This lady's worthy husband was slain, it seems, upon his return from the market at Porlock, no longer ago than last Saturday night. Madam, amend me if I am wrong.'
'No longer, indeed, indeed, sir. Sometimes it seems a twelvemonth, and sometimes it seems an hour.'
'Cite his name,' said the Counsellor, with his eyes still rolling inwards.
'Master John Ridd, as I understand. Counsellor, we have heard of him often; a worthy man and a peaceful one, who meddled not with our duties. Now, if any of our boys have been rough, they shall answer it dearly. And yet I can scarce believe it. For the folk about these parts are apt to misconceive of our sufferings, and to have no feeling for us. Counsellor, you are our record, and very stern against us; tell us how this matter was.'
'Oh, Counsellor!' my mother cried; 'Sir Counsellor, you will be fair: I see it in your countenance. Only tell me who it was, and set me face to
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