Pastor Glowford was dead: a heavy slab, which had fallen from quite a height, had smashed his head and fractured his skull, and he died an instant death.

The church workers, the peasants, and Mr. Pilough, who was present, were horrified: the Walsingham people wept for the loss of their beloved good pastor, and also for the pity of his poor daughters, who were left orphans. Mr. Pilough, too, was shaken by the tragedy, and in his thoughts berated himself for his negligence in failing to see for himself whether the accursed slab was well fixed. He thought that he was to blame for the parson's death, but further investigation showed that it was not the architect's fault: it was the old, flimsy façade of the building that had collapsed under the new stone slab, which was too heavy for it.

Everyone was sobbing. Christine and Catherine sat next to their dead father, hugging him and crying loudly too.

The death of Pastor Glowford was a great tragedy for Walsingham: the peasants could not even think about how they could live without their mentor, who always came to their aid in life situations and matters of faith. But now Reverend Glowford was gone.

Suddenly Catherine stopped crying, got up from her knees and turned towards the people. The girl's face was wet with tears, but very serious.

– 'Don't tell Cassie about this. No one, do you hear me? – she said loudly, and for a few minutes the general crying stopped.

– But she must know! – said someone in the crowd.

– No! Cassie's sick, and if she finds out her father's gone, she'll go mad! Is that what you want? – Kate said seriously. – Don't say a word to her! And if she asks where he is, tell her he's gone, but he'll be back soon. Do you hear? For God's sake, people, please!

– All right! We won't tell her! "She mustn't know," agreed the kind-hearted peasants, who were full of pity for the Glowford sisters.

Catherine sat down in her former place, took her dead father's hand in her own, and then said quietly to her sister:

– 'It concerns you too, Chris. Father wouldn't want Cassie to suffer.

Christine looked up at her with a look of understanding and pain.

– 'Yes, Cassie mustn't know,' she replied quietly to her sister.

– What are we going to do now? Lord, what are we to do? Oh, what grief! – The peasants cried out, and the wailing began again.

– We must bury him as a good Christian," said Catherine, turning again to the crowd. – And a new pastor must be sent for at once!

– Where? Where will we find him? – replied the peasants, who did not understand how to make sense of this terrible turn of events.

– I will take care of it," said Mr. Pilough loudly, touched by the scene. – I will write to London at once, and a new parson will be sent to you, while you make the funeral arrangements.

Without further ado the architect mounted his horse and rode off to the manor.

The parson's body was carefully carried to the church, where it was washed, changed into the parson's attire, in which he had conducted the services, then the local undertaker took his measurements and began to build the coffin. The peasants went home weeping and praying for the soul of the pastor who had left them. Those peasants who were not in the field soon learnt of his death. The children, however, were told the same thing as Cassie. Cassie herself, who returned home in the evening, contented and cheerful, quickly ate the supper Kate had prepared and, tired, went to bed.

The older sisters sat for a long time in their father's room, on his mattress, holding hands: Kate looked at the crucifix with a fanatical gleam in her eyes, and Chris stared thoughtfully at one point on the wall. Both girls clearly realised that from that day on they were completely alone, and that now they had no one but their sisters. But still, they did not fully believe in their father's death, as if it were some bad dream, and their father would come home any minute and embrace them. Then Christine did go to bed, but could not sleep until the morning, hearing Catherine praying in a loud whisper in her father's room.