"It is, it is. Sam saw a party of servants drive to the Dower House, and John himself ride up a while after."
"But, Roger, I do not understand."
"'Tis very simple. He has bought up the mortgages from Sir Bevil's attorney—'twas hard to believe that the foreclosure was Sir Bevil's doing—and has come to mock me and flout me at my own doors; ay, and to drive me away, if he can!"
"A penniless man, Roger! You told me he left here a beggar."
"Yes, a beggar, and worse—a thousand times worse. But that was ten years ago, and in ten years beggars may become rich, and scoundrels may tread down many an honest man. But he shall not tread me down. He may own my land, and fence me in, and do what he will; but the Towers is mine, and by heaven I will hold it!"
Discretion was one of Mrs. Trevanion's qualities. Being relieved to find that Sam's alarming report of the Squire's illness was exaggerated, if not wholly imaginary, she sought with her wonted tact to divert her husband's thoughts into a calmer channel, and soon had him interested in purely domestic matters.
The re-opening of the Dower House was already the all-engrossing topic of conversation among the old wives and young wives, fishers, farmers, tradesmen, loafers and small fry of Polkerran and the neighbourhood. The "wagon-full of females" of Sam's kindling eye turned out to be one plump woman of forty and one slim maid of half that age, the cook and housemaid whom John Trevanion had engaged, as afterwards appeared, in a Devonshire village. On the same day two heavy wagons, each drawn by four enormous horses, arrived from Truro with furniture, kitchen utensils, and other things needed in setting up house, and on the next appeared a couple of riding-horses in charge of a lively young groom.
These important events were retailed and freely commented on in the tap-room of the Five Pilchards.
"We shall see brave doings up at the old house, neighbours," said Doubledick, the innkeeper, to the group of fishermen idling there. "Maister John is a fine feller, that he be. He were allers the chap for a randy, and 'twill be a rare change for we to have some one as will have feastings and merry-makings arter the miserable cold time we've had wi' Squire."
"'A must have a heap o' gold and silver in his purse to pay for all they fine-lookin' things we seed goin' in," said one of the men. "Wheer 'd he get it all from, can 'ee tell us that, neighbour Doubledick?"