"Nicholas Tresidder is a smart fellow," he said, with a grunt, "a very smart fellow. There is no doubt but that your grandfather meant you to have the Barton—not the slightest doubt; but then, you see, it is not legally yours. Let us hope that your uncles will abide by your grandfather's evident desire and make it yours."
But I had no hope of that, and I shook my head sadly. "As well expect water from a stone," I said. "For a long time I have wondered why Richard Tresidder should be so friendly with Peter and Paul Quethiock; now I know. He has been for years trying to ruin me, and now he has accomplished it."
"How old are you?" asked Lawyer Trefry, suddenly, as though a new thought had struck him.
"Twenty next month," I replied.
"Bah! why did not old Quethiock live a month longer?" grunted the lawyer.
"Why, what would have been the use?" I asked.
"Use? Why, if you could prove that you had held the land for twenty years, you could lawfully claim it as yours."
And thus everything was against me, and although we talked over a dozen things together, no ray of light came to cheer the darkness.
The next thing that happened was the event of a letter which I got from Nicholas Tresidder, the Falmouth lawyer. This letter was to the effect that as I was neither a lawful tenant of Elmwater Barton, nor the owner thereof, I must immediately vacate the place, as Paul Quethiock intended to take possession thereof immediately. I had expected this, and had been for days trying to value the stock on the place. As I have before stated, I was barely twenty years of age, and although my father had appointed as my guardians two neighbouring farmers, they took but little interest in my affairs—indeed, I do not think they understood what their duties were. Anyhow, they took no steps to help me, neither did they interfere with me in any way.
On the receipt of this letter, which was brought from Falmouth by messenger, I saddled my mare, and immediately rode to see Lawyer Trefry.