Amidst the wreck strode the gaunt figure of a factor, directing and encouraging, and firing off meantime a volley of revolting oaths.
"What's the name of this place ?" asked Ralph of a man who stood, with fury in his eyes, watching the destruction of his home.
"Hollowbank," answered the man between his teeth.
Ralph remembered that here had lived a well-known Royalist, whom the Parliament had dispossessed of his estates.

The people of this valley had been ardent Parliamentarians during the long campaign.

Could it be that his lordship had been repossessed of his property, and was taking this means of revenging himself upon his tenantry for resisting the cause he had fought for?
An old man lay by the hedge looking down to the ground with eyes that told only of despair.

A little fair-haired boy, with fear in his innocent face, was clinging to his grandfather's cloak and crying piteously.
"Get off with you and begone!" cried the factor, rapping out another volley.
"Is it Hollowbank you call this place ?" said Ralph, looking the fellow in the face.

"Hellbank would be a fitter name." The man answered nothing, but his eyes glared angrily as Ralph put spur to his horse and rode on.
"God in heaven!" cried Ralph when Sim had come up by his side, "to think that work like this goes on in God's sight!" "Yet you say the best happens," said Sim.
"It does; it does; God knows it does, for all that," insisted Ralph.
"But to think of these poor souls thrown out into the road like cattle.