The mother and some women now packed the room.

A gabble arose between them and Edwards. They fired sharp snatches of
speech, and they darted looks at the lady and her lord.

'They do not know!' said Carinthia.

Gower brought her news that the dog had been killed; Martha and her
precious burden were outside, a mob of men, too. He was not alarmed; but
she went to the door and took her babe in her arms, and when the women
observed the lady holding her own little one, their looks were softened.
At a hint of explanation from Edwards, the guttural gabble rattled up to
the shrill vowels.

Fleetwood's endurance broke short. The packed small room, the caged-
monkey lingo, the wailful child, and the past and apprehended debate upon
the burning of flesh, composed an intolerable torture. He said to
Edwards: 'Go to the men; settle it with them. We have to follow that man
Wythan; no peace otherwise. Tell the men the body of the dog must be
secured for analysis. Mad or not, it's the same. These Welsh mothers
and grandmothers won't allow cautery at any price. Hark at them!'

He turned to Carinthia: 'Your ladyship will let Mr. Edwards or Mr.
Woodseer conduct you to the house where you are residing. You don't know
these excitable people. I wish you to leave.'

She replied softly: 'I stay for the doctor's coming.'

'Impossible for me to wait, and I can't permit you to be here.'