one. And yet--and yet,
you do look wronged. Send Counsellor to me," he shouted, from the door
of his house; and down the valley went the call, "Send Counsellor to
Captain."

Counsellor Doone came in ere yet my mother was herself again; and if any
sight could astonish her when all her sense of right and wrong was gone
astray with the force of things, it was the sight of the Counsellor.
A square-built man of enormous strength, but a foot below the Doone
stature (which I shall describe hereafter), he carried a long grey beard
descending to the leather of his belt. Great eyebrows overhung his face,
like ivy on a pollard oak, and under them two large brown eyes, as of an
owl when muting. And he had a power of hiding his eyes, or showing them
bright, like a blazing fire. He stood there with his beaver off, and
mother tried to look at him, but he seemed not to descry her.

"Counsellor," said Sir Ensor Doone, standing back in his height from
him, "here is a lady of good repute--"

"Oh, no, sir; only a woman."

[Illustration: 034.jpg Here is a lady, Counsellor]

"Allow me, madam, by your good leave. Here is a lady, Counsellor, of
great repute in this part of the country, who charges the Doones with
having unjustly slain her husband--"

"Murdered him! murdered him!" cried my mother, "if ever there was a
murder. Oh, sir! oh, sir! you know it."

"The perfect rights and truth of the case is all I wish to know," said
the old man, very loftily: "and justice shall be done, madam."

"Oh, I pray you--pray you, sirs, make no matter of business of it. God
from Heaven, look on me!"

"Put the case," said the Counsellor.

"The case is this," replied Sir Ensor, holding one hand up to mother:
"This lady's worthy husband was slain, it seems, upon his return from
the market at Porlock, no longer ago than last Saturday night. Madam,
amend me if I am wrong."

"No longer, indeed, indeed, sir. Sometimes it seems a twelvemonth, and
sometimes it seems an hour."

"Cite his name," said the Counsellor, with his eyes still rolling
inwards.

"Master John Ridd, as I understand. Counsellor, we have heard of him
often; a worthy man and a peaceful one, who meddled not with our duties.
Now, if any of our boys have been rough, they shall answer it dearly.
And yet I can scarce believe it. For the folk about these parts are
apt to misconceive of our sufferings, and to have no feeling for us.
Counsellor, you are our record, and very stern against u