"His wife!" cried Richard Tresidder's mother. "Think of it. He possesses not one stick. He is a wild vagabond, a terror wherever he goes. How can Naomi Penryn become his wife?"
"Pennington should be mine!" I cried, like one demented. "You robbed it from my father."
"You know the history of Pennington, John," cried the old woman; "it is held in trust for my son. It should have been given to him outright, but my poor husband was mad at the time, and he made a madman's will. But can this fellow buy it back? Has he wealth sufficient to pay half the worth of the estate?"
"Go, Jasper Pennington," said Naomi's father again; "I will do what is right. This woman says you are an evildoer. Well, it shall be my work to guard my child against evildoers."
Then all the heart went out of me, and I, who had hoped so much, left the house of my fathers without so much as seeing Naomi or knowing whether I should ever behold her again. Ay, I left it a beaten man, without a hope, without one bright spot in the sky of my life.
I saw that Naomi's father had been dragged into the Tresidders' net, and that he would be the creature of their wills, the tool to help them to fulfil their purposes.
Except for this my mind was a perfect blank. Slow as I always was to think, I saw no way out of my difficulties. That which I had hoped for came not, and my worst fears were realised.
In this state of mind I, forgetful of the horse on which I rode to the house, walked until I came to the gates, where, in the light moonlight, I thought I saw Eli Fraddam coming toward me.