Calls for "Justice!" and "Thy Will Be Done!" from the throng roused Mercier, who dressed hurriedly and stepped into the street with his valise in hand.

"Mon Dieu! What is the purpose of this? Has Monsieur Gregory committed an offense?"

"Don't interfere, foreigner!" Dave said. "Young Hugh Gregory has taken the Laws of God and Man into his own hands, and the life of my brother to-day. We are apt to square him on all three!"

Mercier's temperature remained steady. "It would be a good service to our great-grandfathers to try Hugh Gregory at the Jasper County seat before he is executed, mais non?"

"A good hiding is what you'll get, Frenchman, if you endure in your care to blunt the Sword of the Almighty!" Dave responded, which set the mob and its tools into terrible motion again.

A sound split the air and echoed like thunder as Mercier dropped his case and clapped his hands above his head.

"Perhaps I should claim the powers that brought me here against my will to resolve the matter!"

Resolve melted into uncertainty. Seeing that most of the sand had gone out of the enterprise, he continued.

"Where, then, is the body of John Gray, s'il vous plait?"

"It's out at Hickory Flat," murmured Constable Webb.

"Would it not be well to make ready John Gray for Christian burial before we turn to his murderer?"

Reverend Hurley had labored near, struggling into his clothes of office. "Jean Mercier is right. Out of respect for the departed, his family and the Sabbath, our first charge is John Gray's remains."

Dave attempted to reclaim the pennant. "'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.' I'll not rest until I've satisfied my dear brother's death by this murdering cur!"

"A day, Monsieur Gray – only a day. We will attend to him, his widow and his daughter. Tomorrow, with Reverend Hurley's assistance, we can come to congress and find the facts, yes? Then we will see . . ."

Its blood-lust defeated equally by reason and by superstition, the Army of Vengeance decamped, leaving its general in the street.

Against habit, the fields and sheds that ringed Deer Lick were empty after breakfast on Monday, but the pews of the Deer Lick Presbyterian Church were filled. Riot had replaced reverence in the precinct. Dave Gray had seen to it, and positioned himself at the head of the assembly. The furor multiplied as the constable led in a manacled Hugh Gregory and deposited him in the front pew on the left. Sarah and Mary Gray slumped together half-way back. Their faces were drawn as tight as drumheads and their eyes had shed all moisture. Reverend Hurley attached himself to the common wood pulpit. The cacaphony subsided an octave when Mercier entered, but crested once more when he seated himself next to Hugh.

As easily as he had raised the orchestra, Dave called for quiet. "My friends, the hour of reckoning for the death of John Gray has come. We are met to show how young Hugh Gregory has broken the holy covenants, 'Love Thy Neighbor' and 'Thou Shalt Not Kill,' and therefore must atone for his grave sin." He settled on Mercier. "Perhaps our guest, wise and schooled in the mysteries of the world, would lead these proceedings?"

"O, non, Monsieur. Justice over fidélité. With his permission, I will speak for Hugh Gregory." Tumult. "Reverend Hurley should preside, I believe. It is against the Laws of God by which this deed is measured, yes?"

Caught unawares, the minister hesitated, but assented without more.

Dave tested his vexation against his claque, which seemed mostly satisfied at the second proposal, if perplexed by the first. "The forces have taken the necessary sides, at the least. Very well. Mrs. Delilah Sykes, come forward!"

The hamlet's landlady took her seat and her oath.

"Now, Mrs. Sykes, hasn't young Gregory regularly visited dark threats on me in your lodgings?"

"Yes, but –"

Dave glared. "Our thanks, Mrs. Sykes."

Reverend Hurley spoke. "Any questions of Mrs. Sykes, Mister Mercier?"

Mercier waved his hand and remained seated. Mrs. Sykes quit her post and the building, her eyes never leaving the floor.

Dave resumed. "I call Messrs. O'Faolan, Burch, and Duenweg."

Nerves bordering palsy, the trio shuffled up, hats in hand, and took to their usual position – three scruffy jays on a wire. Reverend Hurley patiently divided their right from their left hands and, after several rehearsals, got the former heavenward and the latter on the Good Book in formation. The Question of Divine Veracity needed repeating only twice to generate a satisfactory answer.

"Good gentlemen," Dave began. "Was it a scant week ago that you all observed Mister Gregory being thrown out of the Lone Elm?"

A conference was called; O'Faolan emerged as Chairman. "Yes, Yer Wership."

"And, at that time, did not young Hugh bring calumny upon my brother and me, and Mister Matthew Hurley as well?"

Another huddle – O'Faolan: "Beggin' yer pardon, Sir, we was wonderin'. What'd be a 'column-knee'?"

Titters.

"Put another way," Dave sighed, "Did Hugh Gregory curse John Gray, Matthew Hurley, and me?"

O'Faolan brightened. "O Yes, Sir, that he did, Sir!"

"And, immediately thereafter, did you see Mister Gregory raise his hand to me in a threatening manner?"