The loss of the boat was indeed a serious blow to the family at the Towers. The principal source of their food supply was cut off. In the present state of war between them and the villagers it would be impossible to borrow a boat, and the only place from which the boys could now fish the sea was the head of the jetty, where they would come into awkward contact with the hostile fishermen.
Dick examined the segments, with a lingering hope that even now old Reuben, who had so often patched and caulked the boat, might be able to repair it. But the destroyers had done their work only too well; he turned away without a word, and gloomily wended his way homeward.
As he walked towards the house, he saw a horseman riding down the road towards the village. At a second glance he recognised him as Sir Bevil Portharvan. When he reached home his father told him that Mr. Polwhele had ridden over to Portharvan House very early, and informed Sir Bevil of the night's occurrence. That gentleman had never been on more than speaking terms with Squire Trevanion; it is not easy for a wealthy man to be cordial with one who has gone down in the world and yet retains his pride. Sir Bevil disapproved of the Squire's attitude to his cousin, which seemed to him the outcome of sheer envy. But he was sufficiently loyal to his class to be greatly incensed at the criminal action of which the riding officer told him, and he promised to exert his influence as a magistrate to prevent any further proceedings of the same kind.
He rode to the Towers, learnt the particulars from the Squire's lips, and, having coldly expressed his sympathy, went on. As he came to the Dower House it occurred to him to see John Trevanion, whom he had met often of late, and ask him to use his efforts to put down the persecution. Trevanion's attitude was admirably correct. He acknowledged that he was on bad terms with the Squire; deplored the breach, which was not of his making; and promised to let it be known in the village that he disapproved of such violent measures as the people had recently taken. That was as much as he could do. Sir Bevil went away feeling that John Trevanion was an excellent fellow, and regarding his own errand even more in the light of a troublesome duty than he had done before.
From the Dower House he went straight to the inn, which was the focus of the village life, and the place from which his views would radiate with every man who left it after drinking his ale, cider, or brandy. Reining up at the door, he called Doubledick forth.
"Good mornin', yer honour," said the innkeeper, rubbing his hands deferentially as he obeyed the great man's command.
"Look here, Doubledick," said Sir Bevil bluntly, "I've heard of what went on at the Towers last night. That sort of thing won't do, you know; it must be stopped, and you can tell your customers I say so. Free-trading is all very well, but arson is an ugly word and a hanging matter; and, egad! if any man is caught playing such low tricks, and brought before me, he'll get no mercy, I promise you. Make that clear, will you?"
"Iss sure, Sir Bevil," replied the innkeeper. "'Twas a cruel deed, the Squire bein' so cast down and all. I'll tell the folks yer very words, sir, that I will."
"That's right. I saw Mr. John Trevanion on the way down, and he agreed with me, so there will be an eye on the village nearer than mine."
"Oh, if you seed Maister John, Sir Bevil, 'tis as good as seein' the Lord High Constable o' the county, I warrant 'ee. Folks think a deal o' Maister John, they do."