"Don't, ma'am," he said, "don't go on talking like that.

I was with my own mother when she died, when I was a little chap, and I know how it is, and you'd much better try to shed tears, ma'am, indeed you had." Susannah lifted to him a blank face, disturbed but uncomprehending.
He decided what to do; the thought of action restored him.

He ran with all his might back to the houses, and, finding a pick and spade, came again.

This time, more confident of himself, he had more control over Susannah.
"We must make the grave right here, ma'am, and do you go and gather some flowers to put on it, for we must just put them two away out of sight before the devils come back.

It's what he would want, you know." He pointed to Halsey and repeated the words until she understood.
It even seemed a relief to her then to move about too, and find that there was something she could do, but she did not obey him blindly.
While in a soft place close by he delved with might and main, displacing the earth with incredible speed, Susannah, sobbing all the time, but tearless, went into the waggon and brought out certain things which she chose with care--a locked box, the best garments belonging to herself, her husband, and child, and the baby's toys.
It was no neat gravedigger's work that the Danite accomplished; he had made a deep, large hole, but the cavity sloped at the sides so that they could step in and out.