Charles.  Then she was here?

Hillcrist. Yes, sir; and she heard you.

Charles.  All the better if she did.  She knows how I feel.

Hillcrist. Brace up; be gentle with her.

Charles.  Gentle?  A woman who—­who——­

Hillcrist. A most unhappy creature.  Come!

Charles.  Damn your sympathy!

     [He goes out into the moonlight, passing away.]

Jill.  Dodo, we ought to look for her; I’m awfully afraid.

Hillcrist. I saw her there—­listening.  With child!  Who knows where things end when they and begin?  To the gravel pit, Jill; I’ll go to the pond.  No, we’ll go together. [They go out.]

     [Mrs. Hillcrist comes down to the fireplace, rings the bell
     and stands there, thinking.  Fellows enters.]

Mrs. H. I want someone to go down to Mr. Dawker’s.

Fellows.  Mr. Dawker is here, ma’am, waitin’ to see you.

Mrs. H. Ask him to come in.  Oh! and Fellows, you can tell the
Jackmans that they can go back to their cottage.

Fellows.  Very good, ma’am. [He goes out.]

     [Mrs. Hillcrist searches at the bureau, finds and takes out the
     deed.  DAWKERS comes in; he has the appearance of a man whose
     temper has been badly ruffled.]

Mrs. H. Charles Hornblower—­how did it happen?

Dawker.  He came to me.  I said I knew nothing.  He wouldn’t take it; went for me, abused me up hill and down dale; said he knew everything, and then he began to threaten me.  Well, I lost my temper, and I told him.

Mrs. H. That’s very serious, Dawker, after our promise.  My husband is most upset.

Dawker. [Sullenly] It’s not my fault, ma’am; he shouldn’t have threatened and goaded me on.  Besides, it’s got out that there’s a scandal; common talk in the village—­not the facts, but quite enough to cook their goose here.  They’ll have to go.  Better have done with it, anyway, than have enemies at your door.

Mrs. H. Perhaps; but—­Oh!  Dawker, take charge of this. [She hands him the deed] These people are desperate—­and—­I’m sot sure of my husband when his feelings are worked on.

     [The sound of a car stopping.]

Dawker. [At the window, looking to the Left] Hornblower’s, I think.  Yes, he’s getting out.

Mrs. H. [Bracing herself] You’d better wait, then.

Dawker.  He mustn’t give me any of his sauce; I’ve had enough.

     [The door is opened and Hornblower enters, pressing so on the
     heels of fellows that the announcement of his name is lost.]

Hornblower.  Give me that deed!  Ye got it out of me by false pretences and treachery.  Ye swore that nothing should be heard of this.  Why! me own servants know.