There were half a dozen men in the bar-room when she pushed the door inward and stood upon the threshold. They looked up in amazement.
“Those on yo' as want to help a deeing mon,” she said, “come wi' me. My feyther's lyin' in the Knoll Road, done to death.”
All were astir in a moment. Lanterns and other necessaries were provided, and bearing one of these lanterns herself, Joan led the way.
As she stepped out onto the pavement a man was passing, and, attracted by the confusion, turned to the crowd:
“What is the matter?” he asked.
“There's a mon been killed up on th' Knoll Road,” answered one of the colliers. “It's this lass's feyther, Dan Lowrie.”
The man strode into the light and showed an agitated face.
“Killed!” he said, “Dan Lowrie!”
It was Fergus Derrick.
He recognized Joan immediately, and went to her.