Thereby Hangs a Tale. Volume One

“Well,” said Trevor, with a red spot coming into each cheek, but speaking quite coolly, “my name is Trevor. I am the owner of Penreife, and I have lately returned from sea.”

“Then – then – go back to sea, sir, or get off my grounds; or, by gad, sir, my labourers shall kick you off.”

The men advanced menacingly; but, with a face like fire, Humphrey rolled up his cuffs.

“Humphrey! Stop; how dare you!” exclaimed Trevor, angrily.

The young keeper drew back, grinding his teeth; for the others continued to advance, and the rat-trap-mouthed man, finding Juno, the dog, smelling about him, gave the poor brute a kick, which produced a loud yelp.

“Excuse me, Sir Hampton, but – ”

“Get off my grounds, sir, this instant!” roared the knight.

Wasp sting again.

“Look here,” said Pratt, “if it’s a question of boundary, any solicitor will look through the deeds, and a surveyor measure, and put it all right in – ”

“Who the devil is this little cad?” exclaimed Sir Hampton.

“Cad?” cried Pratt.

“Yes, sir, cad. Oh! I thought I knew you again. Yes; you are one of that gang on the omnibus who insulted me the other day. And – and – ” he stammered in his rage, turning to Trevor, “you were another of the party. Get off my grounds, sir – this instant, sir. Darley, Sanders, Kelynack – drive these fellows off!”

The three men advanced, and Sir Hampton took the general’s place in the rear, quivering still with rage and the poison of the wasp. Trevor was now flushed and angry, and Humphrey evidently ripe for any amount of assault or resistance, when Pratt stepped forward and laid his hand upon the arm of the angry knight.

Hebe

“Stand back, sir – get off my ground, sir!” cried Sir Hampton, furiously. “Look here, men, this is – er-rum – an assault.”

“No, it is not, Sir Hampton,” said Pratt, coolly. “Look here, my good man.”

“Your good man, sir?”

“Yes,” said Pratt, quietly; and there was something in the little fellow that enforced attention. “You are, I believe, a magistrate here – for the county?”

“Yes, sir; I am, sir; and – er-rum – ”

“Be cool – be cool,” said Pratt, “You called me a cad just now.”

“I did, sir; and – ”

“Well, I am a barrister – of the Temple. There is my card.”

He stuck the little piece of pasteboard into the magistrate’s hand.

“Confound your card, sir! I – ”

“Now – now, look here,” said Pratt, button-holing him; “don’t be cross. Let me ask you this – Is it wise of you – a justice of the peace – to set your men on, right or wrong, to break that peace?”

Sir Hampton Rea stopped short for a moment or two, and then gasped, seemed as if he would choke, and ended by snatching his coat away from Pratt’s grasp.

“Darley, Sanders, come back – go back,” he said at last. “These people shall hear from me.”

The rat-trap man stood looking evilly at the young keeper, and the Scotch gardener took a pinch of snuff. Then they slowly followed their master, and the coast was clear.

“You’re sure, I suppose, about this tongue of land?” said Pratt. “By Jove! what a rage, though, the old boy was in.”

“Sure? yes – oh yes,” said Trevor. “Wasn’t it here that they sunk the shaft for the copper mine, Humphrey?”

“Yes, sir, twenty yards farther on, under that clump. It’s ’most filled up, though, now.”

“To be sure, I recollect the spot well enough now. But this is a bad job, Franky,” he continued, in an undertone. “I wanted to be on the best of terms with my neighbours.”

“’Specially that neighbour,” said Pratt, meaningly.

“With all my neighbours,” said Trevor.

“You’ve made a nice beginning, then,” said Pratt.

“If there is any fresh upset, Humphrey, let me know; but don’t pick a quarrel,” said Trevor. “I shall not go any farther to-day.”

“Very well, sir,” said the keeper; and then in an undertone, as he stooped and patted the dog, “Kick you, would he, Juno, lass? Never mind, then, he shall have it back some day.”

The dog whined and leaped up at him, as he rose again, and looked after his master.

“Well, he’s grown into a fine, bold-speaking gentleman,” he said to himself; “but I should have liked it better if he’d tackled to and helped me to thrash them two ill-looking blackguards.”

Meanwhile Trevor and his old schoolfellow had been walking sharply back towards the house, where they were evidently being watched for by the old butler, Lloyd – the remains of a fine-looking man, for he was bent now, though his eyes were clear and bright.

“I saw you coming across the park, Master Dick,” he said, his face shining with pleasure. “You’ll have a bit of lunch now, won’t you?”

“Early yet, isn’t it?” said Pratt.

“I don’t think so, sir,” said the old butler, austerely. “I am sure Master Dick requires something after his long walk.”

“Yes, yes – that he does,” said a rather shrill voice; and an active, grey-haired woman of about fifty came bustling out. She was very primly dressed in black silk, with white muslin kerchief, white holland apron, in whose pockets her hands rested; and her grey hair was carefully smoothed back beneath her plain white muslin cap.

“No, no; it’s only twelve o’clock, Mrs Lloyd,” said Trevor, good-humouredly. “I lunch at one.”

“You take my advice, Master Dick, and have it now,” said the butler.

“Yes, Lloyd, have it brought in, and ask Master Dick if he’ll have some of the old claret,” said the woman.

“My dear Mrs Lloyd,” said Trevor, smiling, “this is very kind of you – of you both – but I’m not ready for lunch yet. You can both go now. I’ll ring when I’m ready.”

He led the way into his handsomely furnished study, the beau ideal of a comfortable room for a man with a mingling of literary and sporting tastes.

“Here, let’s sit down and have a cigar,” he said, pushing a great leather-covered chair to his friend; “it will smooth us down after our encounter.”