The Birthright

"P'raps I can, Jasper. Ave 'ee seed my boy Eli, Jasper?"

"No," replied my father.

"Then come in and zee un – come in, Jasper," and she led the way into the cottage.

My father, who told me this years after, said he should never forget the curious feeling that came over him as he saw Betsey Fraddam's son. He looked even as a child like an old man, and he had a wild look in his eyes that made him shudder.

"He 'ed'n wot you may call a purty cheeld, es a, then?" asked Betsey.

My father did not reply.

"Well, we ca'ant expect for Betsey Fraddam to 'ave purty cheldern, can us, then?"

My father was still silent, for Betsey had a strange way with her that made people afraid. Even I can remember that.

"You may have a son some day, Jasper."

"No," said my father.

"But you may," said Betsey, "you may; I do'ant main nothin' wrong, Jasper. Margaret Quethiock es well off, and her father do oan the Barton. Think about it, Jasper. And then ef you do ever have a son, you'll tell 'im to be kind to Eli, wa'ant 'ee now, Jasper?"

"Yes," said my father, wondering all the time why he should give the promise. And that was all the conversation they had together at that time, for my father told me, and he was always a truthful man. But his cattle got better from that time, and as Mr. Quethiock, of Falmouth, lent him £300 he was able to tide over his difficulty.

A little while later my father married Margaret Quethiock, and the fortune that her father gave her was £200, besides the £300 he had borrowed, and Elmwater Barton rent free during her lifetime. If she died before my father, the question of rent was to be considered. They had been married about two years when I was born; but my mother died at my birth, so I never knew a mother's care and love.

My grandfather Quethiock said nothing about rent after my mother's death, but my father did not become a rich man. Somehow things were constantly going wrong with him, and he was in endless trouble about money matters. It was his stepmother, he told me, who was constantly persecuting him, because she feared his getting rich, while her son, who enjoyed my father's wealth, had all sorts of people ready to do his will. Only for him to hint at a thing, and his satellites would do it. Thus, one day a herd of cattle would get into a cornfield and destroy it; and on another, without any apparent reason, a corn-mow would catch fire. We could never trace it to them, but we always knew by the jeering laugh on Tresidder's face when he passed us who was the cause of our trouble.

All this shortened my father's life. When I was nineteen, at the time when he should have been in his prime, he was a worn-out old man; and so, when sickness overtook him, he had no strength to fight against it. It was during this sickness that he told me some of the things I have written, and also informed me of other matters which will be related later.

I was with him shortly before he died, and then he said to me very earnestly, "I leave you Elmwater Barton, Jasper, for I don't think your grandfather Quethiock will ever charge you rent, and he told me it should be yours completely at his death; but your real property is Pennington, my boy. Now I want you to make me a promise."

"I will promise anything in my power, father," I said.

"Then," he replied, quietly, "I want you to promise me that you will never rest until you get back your own. Never rest until you are back at Pennington as master and owner. You have been robbed, my son. I have tried to get your rights and have failed, but you must not fail."

"No, father, I will not fail," I replied. "I will never rest until I have got back Pennington."

"And never trust a Tresidder, Jasper; they are all as deep as the bottomless pit, and as cruel as the fiend who rules there."

"I hear, father," was my reply, "and you shall be obeyed."

This was in the month of July, in the year 1737, when I was nineteen years of age.

What I have to tell is how I tried to get back my home, of the battles I had to fight, of the love which came into my heart, of many mysteries which I cannot explain, and of the strange experiences through which I passed in seeking to obey my father's will.

Whether I shall be believed or no I cannot tell, but I will tell only the truth, strange as it may all seem. Moreover, let God be the judge whether my quarrel with the Tresidders was not a just one, and whether I did not fight fairly, as every honest man should.

CHAPTER II

TELLS HOW I, JASPER PENNINGTON, TRIED TO GET MY OWN

I do not think I have as yet mentioned it, but Richard Tresidder – I mean the man who entered into my father's possessions – had three sons and one daughter, and each of these was brought up with the thought that I was their natural enemy. Of course, they were informed that my grandfather's will provided the means whereby I, if I were sufficiently fortunate, could buy back the estate at half its valued worth. And they were in constant suspense about it. If I were to marry a rich wife it could be done; if I were to have some stroke of fortune their home might be taken from them, they having only a given sum of money. And thus it was to their interest to keep me poor, as well as to damage my reputation in the neighbourhood.

The eldest son was a year or more older than I, and was, of course, respected as the heir to the Pennington lands, for it is strange how people's sympathies veer around on the side of the people who are in power. My father has told me many times how, when he was thought to be the prospective heir of Pennington, people could not make enough of him, while Richard Tresidder had but scant courtesy paid him. When it became known that my father was disinherited, no matter how unjustly, these same folks discovered that Richard Tresidder was a very mine of wit and goodness, while my father was made a butt for fools' jokes.

And so I discovered that my being a Pennington counted but for little, while it seemed to be forgotten that but for the wiles of a clever, selfish woman, I should be the Squire of the parish.

When I was old enough I was sent to Tregony grammar school, my father being determined to give me a schooling befitting the position he hoped, in spite of his misfortunes, I should some day occupy. Now Nick Tresidder had been attending this same school for some months when I went. For this I was very glad, because I thought it would give me an opportunity for testing him. I had not been in the school a week, however, when my father came to fetch me away. The reason was that Richard Tresidder had demanded it, as he would not allow his son to be educated at the school where the son of a tenant-farmer was admitted. He told the schoolmaster that he had two other sons whom he intended to send, but that he should immediately withdraw his patronage if I were not sent away.

All this angered me as well as my father, but there was no help for it, and I was sent to Probus instead, where the education was as good, but where I had no chance of meeting the Tresidders.

I have said that Elmwater Barton was a good farm, but I must confess to looking longingly at Pennington. This was in the nature of things very reasonable on my part, for I always looked upon it as my home. But besides this, I doubt if the whole country can present a stretch of land so fair, or a house so pleasantly situated. There may be bigger and more imposing houses, but there are none more comfortable. Besides, Pennington faces a beautiful glen that is about half a mile wide. I know of no grass as green as that which grows there, or of trees so fine and stately. Besides, the river which winds its way downward, and which sometimes runs side by side with the drive leading from the house to the main road, is the most beauteous stream of water I ever saw. Then sloping away from this glen are wooded hills, the sight of which in the early summer time is enough to make a man sing for joy; and in addition to all this, while standing at the main entrance of the house you can see the blue sea, say a mile and a half away. I, who have seen something of the world, say there is nothing finer in the way of green and pleasant land, while all the world knows that nowhere are cliffs so fine and the sea so blue as that which is to be seen in this part of my native county. Besides, all that land from the house where my father was born right to the sea belongs to the Pennington estates, while at the back of the house it stretches just as far, and just as fair.

One day – it was before my father died – I had climbed Trescowal Tor, just to feast my eyes upon so much loveliness, when I saw Richard Tresidder walking with his mother toward the Pennington woods. Now a great desire came into my heart, not to see Tresidder, but to speak to his mother, whom I knew to be the evil genius of my family. And so I made my way to the woods, and stood in the pathway as they came up.

They both knew me, not only through my likeness to my father, but because of my size, for it is well known that the Pennington family on the male side are at least six inches taller than the ordinary run of men.

"Do you know you are trespassing?" asked Tresidder.

"My name is Jasper Pennington," I said, proudly.

"Then get off my lands at once," he said, sternly, and with a black look.

"Not until I have had a good look on the man and woman who have robbed my father and me," I said – and I knew I had aroused the devil in them as I spoke. For the woman who had robbed us fairly glared at me, while Tresidder grasped his stick as though he would strike me. The woman was nearing seventy, but she was strong and hale, and her eyes flashed like those of a young girl. I saw, too, that she must have been handsome when she was young. I marked the cruel, resolute expression of her mouth, and I did not wonder at the difficulty my grandfather had in resisting her.

"I will have you put in the stocks, and then taken to the lockup, if you are not gone at once," said Tresidder, savagely.

"I will give your three sons the chance of doing this," I said, with a laugh. "Three Tresidders against one Pennington isn't bad in fair fight. Of course, where cunning and cheatery comes in I should be nowhere. Or perhaps," I continued, "you would like to try yourself. I am only eighteen, and you are in the prime of your life; still, I should be pleased to give you the chance."

But he laid no hands on me; instead, he put a whistle to his mouth and blew.

"Yes," I said, "get some one else to do the work you are afraid to try yourself; that's a Tresidder all over. Well, I'll go now; I've had a good look at you both, and I shall know you again."

With that I turned and walked away, for, if the truth must be told, I did not care about fighting with Tresidder's minions, and my father had told me many times to be careful.

The path was very crooked, and the foliage was very thick, so that I had not gone more than a few steps before I was out of their sight. Acting on the impulse of the moment, I stopped and listened.

"A regular Pennington," I heard the old woman say. "You must be careful, Richard, for he has more brains than his father. He has all the good looks of the family, too. We must be silent about all our plans, for if he knows he will spoil them. Remember the will."

"I do remember; that is why I am anxious about our boys. Still, there can be no fear, and it will not be so very long before we shall get her. That settled, and Nick will be all right."

I heard no more after that, but I wondered often what he meant. I told my father, too, but he could give me no hint toward the solution of Tresidder's words.

After my father's death I ceased to think so much of Pennington; for I had Elmwater Barton to look after. I was determined to make the farm pay, and now that all the responsibility rested on me, I made up my mind that the Tresidders should not play fast and loose with me, as they had done with my father. In order to do this I looked carefully around me for a man in whom I could trust; for, be it remembered, this was a very difficult matter. My father had engaged two hinds, and each of these had been bribed by the Tresidders to injure his property. You see, his enemies had almost supreme power in the parish, and they used it to his injury. Still, I knew that the Tresidders must have enemies as well as other people, and it was for me to find out who they were. This I had no great difficulty in doing. A man named William Dawe had farmed a place named Treviscoe, on the Pennington estate, and the poor fellow had several seasons of bad luck. One year his turnip crop failed; the next the foot and mouth disease got hold of his cattle; and the next, during the lambing season, he lost a great number of sheep. Indeed, so bad was his luck that he was unable to pay his rent. Perhaps Tresidder would have been lenient with him but for two things: one was that he had refused to take sides with him against my father, and another was that when Nick Tresidder insulted William Dawe's daughter the farmer gave him a thrashing. The end of all this was that William Dawe was sold up, and even then he was not free from all his difficulties.

One of the first important things I did after my father's death, therefore, after a serious conversation with the farmer, was to lure him to come to Elmwater Barton, with his wife and son and daughter, in order to manage the farm. I do not think in all my life I have ever seen a man so grateful.

"Will you come, William?" I asked, when I told him what wages I could afford to give.