Stephen asked no more questions then, being too busy. But that night, after supper, as the old man was mending his mittens he sat down by his side.
"Henry," he began, "how is it that the parson has head-winds? Do you think it's the Lord's will?"
"'Tain't the Lord's will, laddie," was the slow response. "Oh no, 'tain't His."
"Whose, then?"
"It's the devil's, that's whose it is, an' he's usin' sartin men in Glendow as human bellows to blow his vile wind aginst that man of God. That's what he's doin', an' they can't see it nohow."
"And so you think the parson had nothing to do with Billy Fletcher's gold. You think he is innocent?"
"Think it, laddie? Think it? What's the use of thinkin' it when I know it. Haven't I known Parson John fer forty years now. Can't I well remember when his hair, which is now so white, was as black as the raven's wing. An' why did it become white? I ax ye that. It's not old age which done it, ah no. It's care an' work fer the people of Glendow, that's what's done it. D'ye think I'd believe any yarn about a man that's been mor'n a father to me an' my family? Didn't I see 'im kneelin' by my little Bennie's bed, twenty years ago come next June, with the tears runnin' down his cheeks as he axed the Good Lord to spare the little lad to us a while longer. Mark my word, Stevie, them people who are tellin' sich stories about that man 'ill come to no good. Doesn't the Lord say in his great Book, 'Touch not Mine anointed, an' do My prophets no harm?' My old woman often reads them words to me, fer she's a fine scholar is Marthy. 'Henry,' says she, 'the parson is the Lord's anointed. He's sot aside fer a holy work, an' it's a risky bizness to interfere with sich a man.'"
Scarcely had the speaker finished when the door of the cabin was pushed suddenly open, and a queer little man entered. A fur cap was pulled down over his ears, while across his left shoulder and fastened around his body several times was a new half-inch rope.
"Hello, Pete," Stephen exclaimed, "You look cold. Come to the stove and get warm."
"Y'bet I'm cold," was the reply. "My fingers and nose are most froze."