In the village, everyone gathered around the house of the village chief, Bowden. As many people as possible were crammed inside, overflowing in his yard and on the street. It's noisier than the festival.

Thorne pushed the door open and entered the house. Most of the people who went to pick up Selwyn were able to squeeze in, though it suddenly squeezed the others who had been before them outside.

As Thorne says, Anola is crying loudly, her usually lovely face swollen and red from tears. As soon as she saw Selwyn, she lifted her apron to her head, the only privacy she had under everyone's gaze, and she began to rock back and forth on the stool. People poked each other with their elbows and pointed at each other. The miller, Derian, the deceased's uncle, patted her on the leg and said, "All right, all right," and glared at Selwyn.

"We brought them," Linton announced, hardly necessary, and everyone was already staring. "They caused us some trouble." It was something that the others could see with their own eyes, the two of them tied up and gagged, their clothes all in tatters, and Selwyn's father's right cheek dyed purple by someone's knuckles. But Linton always tried to make himself important. He's the kind of guy who will say "it's definitely raining heavily" without you noticing. If you have, and you reply, "Yes, I can see," Linton will try to convince you that it rains the most in his house.

Bowden made a fire, which was such a luxury on such a warm day. But he likes to show off that he is the richest man in the village, even if his house has only one room like everyone else. Still, Selwyn couldn't have been the only one who found it difficult to breathe fresh air, the wood was burning, and all of them were close.

Bowden slowly stood up and asked Thorne, not Selwyn, "So what's the boy's story?" ”

Why is everyone talking around him?

"Being at home all night with his family," Thorne replied with a slight shrug of his shoulders, and that might mean something.

Selwyn looked at him: your long nose and bright eyes make you look like a mouse. In all the years I've known him, this is the first time Selwyn has thought so. Bowden, he concluded, was like a bull—lazy but dangerous.

Bowden turned his languid and dangerous eyes to Selwyn's father, who was incoherently furious, struggling as if trying to break free from his restraints. He asked him: "Dinner till dawn: will you assure everyone that it is impossible for your children to leave the house in the dead of night while everyone is sleeping?" His father nodded vigorously, but Bowden continued, "You usually put a guard at the door to make sure he doesn't let himself out and play pranks?" "There is no good answer, yes or no.

His father began to speak with his mouth again. No one heard him, but Selwyn guessed that Bowden was more interested in acting smart than in knowing the facts.

"Now, Selwyn," said Bowden, "no one accuses you of meddling in this." Everyone knows that Selwin and Farrow had a feud because of my Anora. ”

Anora, who finally came out from under her apron, covered her face again.

Bowden continued, "Young people and hot-blooded — we've all seen it before. I blamed myself, in part for not foreseeing it and not forcing Anora to make a choice faster. However, once she chooses Farrow, it should be the end of the matter. But Selwyn wasn't going to stop there. We've all seen the fight Selwyn started in Orrick's tavern. One time Farrow beat him in that game......" Bowden shook his head sadly, as if to say that he was tired of the violence, even though he was one of the bystanders that day, laughing and cheering, not caring who was the winner, just rejoicing for fun. Of course, he was humiliated, and rightly so. And it makes sense that you want to protect him, he is your only son. But, Rowe, this was not a grumpy accident: Selwyn found Farrow in the middle of the night and stabbed the man while he was asleep. Whoever would do that......" Bowden shook his head meaningfully again.

"No!" Selwyn cried into his mouth, shaking his head emphasisively in case anyone had any doubts about what he said.

"Why don't you take this kid's mouth off?" Recommended in the room. "Otherwise it would be difficult to get an informed answer from him."

"It's just boys," Bowden said.

The gag came out, leaving Selwyn's mouth smelly and dry. "I didn't do that," he protested. "Yes, I'm angry that Anola chose Farrow. But I didn't hate him to kill him. Farrow wasn't that bad, and Selwyn forced himself to think again, as if this generous thought could prove his innocence. When you want to make a good impression on a girl, Farrow isn't as bad as a runny nose. Farold is not as bad as hives on the buttocks.

Bowden's eyes narrowed. "Didn't you say it was Anola's fault for choosing Farrow over you?" He said.

That's what Selwyn needed – to make Bowden worry he'd go after Anola. Why can't the person ask simple questions and get straight answers? "No," he said. "I mean, I didn't kill Farrod."

Derian then went on to say, "Farrow has always been a good boy," which Selwyn might otherwise dispute. In other cases, a lot of people may dispute this. Still, with Derian, one can never be sure exactly how much dialogue he heard. But the old miller was the one who raised Farod whose parents died young. Therefore, if he is upset, there will be reasons for sadness and deafness.

Bowden gestured to the man standing near the table. An object is picked up and passed from one hand to the other. "Recognize this?" Bowden asked.

Selwyn thought his heart would definitely stop beating. "I-I-I," of course he recognized the unusual long-handled knife — it was his own. It was an adult gift from his father, which he brought back while serving in the war, and there was no such gift in the village. "I lost it, around harvest time." He looked anxiously around the room. "Redan" he found a friendly face, and then another "Merton." You remember I lost it. I looked around. I've been asking if anyone has found it. ”

"Yes," said Redan briskly, his brother Merton nodding as well.

Selwyn turned to Thorne, even though he did look and act like a mouse, his words should be more important than one of his peers.

Thorne did say, "I remember. ”