'It's no use wasting breath,' replied William Morris. 'The master says
he's bought the place from thy grandfather, lass; and he agreed to turn
out by noon on Michaelmas Day. Master doesn't want to be hard upon you;
and he says, if you've no place to turn in to, you may go to the old
cabin on the upper cinder-hill, till there's a cottage empty in Botfield;
and we'll help thee to move the things at wunst. We're to get the roof
off and the walls down afore nightfall.'

'Grandfather and little Nan!' screamed Martha; 'get into the house this
minute! It's no use you men coming up here on this errand. You know
grandfather's simple, and he hasn't sold the house; how could he? He's no
more sense than little Nan. No, no; you must go down to the works, and
hear what Stephen says. You're a pack of rascals, every one of you, and
the master's the biggest; and you'll all have to gnash your teeth over
this business some day, I reckon.'

By this time the old man and the child were safely within the house;
and Martha, springing quickly from the wicket, where she had kept the
men at bay, followed them in, and barred the door, before any one of
the labourers could thrust his shoulder in to prevent her. They held a
consultation together when they found that no arguments prevailed upon
her to open to them, to which Martha listened disdainfully through the
large chinks, but vouchsafed no answer.

'Come, come, my lass,' said William Morris soothingly; 'it's lost time
and strength, thee contending with the master. I don't like the business;
but our orders are clear, and we must obey them. Thee let us in, and
we'll carry the things down to the cinder-hill cabin for thee. If thee
won't open the door, we'll be forced to take the thatch off.'