CHAPTER VII.
"Whether it be
Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple
Of thinking too precisely on the event—
A thought, which, quartered, hath but one part wisdom,
And ever three parts coward—I do not know
Why yet I live to say, This thing 's to do."
Shakspeare.
Randolph had not renewed, on returning to the castle, the instructions he formerly gave to Jeffrey respecting the non-admission of strangers. But as yet there had been no visitors. The family had been so long isolated, that it was a matter of discussion among the neighbouring gentry to call or not to call; and no sheep had as yet chosen to head the flock. But the very morning of the sports described in the last chapter, word was brought that a gentleman wished to see Mr. Trevethlan. Randolph desired he might be shown into a parlour, and went to meet him.
"Have the honour to address Mr. Trevethlan, I presume," the stranger said. "My name, Stiles; in the employment of Messrs. Truby and Company, solicitors, Chancery-lane, London. Have the honour to deliver this declaration in ejectment. Will take the liberty to read the notice—'Mr. Randolph Trevethlan'"——
"It is unnecessary, sir," said Randolph, with an external calmness at which he afterwards marvelled. "I have been a student of the law, and understand the proceeding."
"Beg pardon, sir," said Mr. Stiles; "more regular to read it. Very short. 'Mr. Randolph Trevethlan'"——
And the clerk read the notice without further interruption. Randolph took the paper, rang the bell, desired the servant to provide Mr. Stiles with some refreshment, wished him good-morning, and withdrew.
He was, as he said, perfectly familiar with the nature of the law-suit which this visit commenced. And as the reader is doubtless acquainted with it through the medium of a very clever and popular story, it will be unnecessary to pursue its details here. As soon as Randolph was alone, he glanced down the document, and, with a kind of wild glee, perceived that his real opponent in the action was Philip Trevethlan Pendarrel. He rubbed his hands together, rumpling the paper between them, and almost exulting in the strife which was at hand.