Richard made a movement to pass on, but the old man had no mind to miss his chance of a gossip.
"Seems to me as if I had seen 'ee afore, sir. You were a-visiting at Hunstanton, warn't 'ee, in the old squire's time? I reckoned I knowed 'ee—fine young gentleman you was then, but not so lusty as you be growed now. That was a fine house, now, warn't it? And kept as gentlefolks' houses should be."
"Yes, I suppose Sir Gyles was a very rich man."
"That he was—and respected. Why he might 'a been a king an' more than a king the way he was thought on in the country. And our young lady—she was always known by the name o' the Queen o' Hunstanton, even when queens was in no great favour in the country; but there—our parish clerk says, says he, there's a Scripture warrant for it—with Queen Esther and a sight more on 'em. So why not Queen o' Hunstanton!"
"You made an excellent choice of a queen," said Harrison, willing to humour the old man's desire for a talk.
"Ees, that us did; but things was mighty different then. A round dozen serving-men with blue coats there was, not to speak of the butler and the steward, and twenty or more in the stables; and where be 'un all gone—gone like the leaves!" And he spread out his wrinkled hands with a gesture that had a touch of pathos in it.
"Times are indeed changed. I suppose the wars brought troubles everywhere."
"'Twarn't the wars, 'twarn't the wars," broke in the old man, eagerly. "Squire was as big a man when the wars was done as when they begun—only older—older, you understand. And no one 'ud ha' laid a finger on ought belonging to him, not for gold untold; they had that respect for him, and they bore fear on him too. A very plain-speaking gentleman he was when he was pleased. But no—'twarn't the wars. He was a great man, and a rich man to the day of his death. He was took sudden, you understand—in some sort of fit like; and young master—that's Passon Perrient as they calls him, our young missis' father—and missis, they was away at Ipswich, and come back all of a scuffle and finds him dead; and by all I hear, not the value of a penny-piece in the house in money—plenty of silver and pewter you understand, but no money whatsumever. And when all come to be settled, why then Passon Perrient he was on the windy side of the hedge, and he just sold the horses and cows and the old house and went across seas, and our young missis, she come to her aunt, old Madam Isham, and Molly, that's my wife, and I, we come along on her; but 'twas a change—that it was."
"It was well that some of her old servants were so faithful as to stay by her," said Harrison.
"Ees, ees we'd surely stay by her; but 'tis no fitting place here for a young lady; why, there's no company—no coming and going; and the coaches as used to come to the old Squires's; and the quality; and they fare to have clean forgotten our young lady, dang 'em! And Squire's great house turned into an inn! You think o' that! If so be as you goo into Hun'ston, you'll see the name o' it, The Royal Oak, and a great oak tree drawed for a sign over the front door. How's that for impudence!"