"No, no," cried Timothy, shaking his fist at the singular animals, of species unknown, which represented the Falconer's Arms; "there hangs the old sign put up by my great grandfather, when his honoured master set him going in business in this very house, and no other shall swing there while Timothy Turnbull can hold his own."
"It is a very ancient painting apparently," said the lawyer, looking at it as respectfully as if it had been a Rembrandt, or a Holbein; "time-worn and weather-beaten."
"Aye, sir, that's true enough, but we do brighten it up a bit now and then; I've a nephew in the oil ana colour trade, and he puts a fresh coat on it beautiful; the feathers and claws looks ready to fly and clutch the game, I'll warrant you, after that!"
"No doubt of it, Mr. Turnbull; you stand up for the old families, I see, and the Falconers seem to be of a venerable stock."
"Aye, sir. Find a venerabler one in the three kingdoms, if you can," exclaimed the sexton proudly. "Why, they came in with the Conqueror, the Falconers did!" And he gave a complacent puff to the tobacco, as if to say, "There, you are annihilated now!"
"Well," said Mr. Penacre undauntedly, "it is nevertheless a fact that Mr. Hazelwood's family can trace back to the time of King Alfred and the old Saxon parliament, with certain grants then made to an ancestor for service rendered to the king. What do you say to that?"
"You don't go for to set a Saxon churl before a Norman knight, I hope, sir," said Mr. Spadeley, with great disdain.
"Put earl for churl, and adventurer for knight, and give each his due," said the lawyer good-humouredly. "You know it was Saxon plenty that attracted lackland knights, and since they've shaken so well together, and bygones are bygones, it doesn't much matter whether we quarter arms with a Saxon bow or a Norman lance. For my part, I'm content to trace back to Noah, with whom your progenitor and mine, good friends, outrode the storm that swept away all landmarks. Good evening to you, and don't despise Squire Hazelwood himself, whatever you may think of his bluff ancestors."
And dropping a silver coin into the ostler's empty pail, he trotted away, raising his hat smilingly to the village parson, who just then came up and heard his concluding remarks.
