“The old gentleman as bought Tolcarne, sir.”
“Well, what of him?” said Trevor, rather anxiously.
“Well, sir, he’s a magistrate and a Sir, and a great City of London man, and he wants to be quite the squire. The very first thing he does is to get two men to work on the estate, and who does he get but that Dick Darley and Sam Kelynack; and a nice pair they are, as you may know, sir.”
“Seeing that I’ve been away for years, Humphrey, I don’t know,” said Trevor.
“Well, sir, they was both turned out of their last places—one for a bit o’ poaching, and the other for being always on the drink. They know I don’t like ’em—both of ’em,” said Humphrey, with the veins swelling in his white forehead; “and no sooner do they get took on, than they begin to worry me.”
“How?” said Trevor, smiling.
“Trespassing on my land, sir—I mean yours, sir, begging your pardon, sir. They will do it, too, sir. You see, there’s a bit of land at the corner where Penreife runs right into the Tolcarne estate—sort of tongue o’ land, sir—and to save going round, they make a path right across there, sir, over our bit of pasture.”
“Put up a fence, Humphrey,” said Trevor.
“I do, sir, and bush it, and set up rails; but they knocks ’em down, and tramples all over the place. Sir Hampton’s got an idea that he’s a right to that bit, as his land comes nigh surrounding it, and that makes ’em so sarcy.”
“Well, we must see to it,” said Trevor. “I want to be good friends with all my neighbours.”