Then he wrote to Rereworth, who had been called to the bar the preceding term, and intended to join the western circuit at the coming assizes. The letter was as follows:—
"My dear Rereworth,
"An action has just been commenced against me, in which I have requested Winter to offer you a brief. If you will not object to hold it, I shall rejoice; but if, under the circumstances, you feel the slightest reluctance, pray decline without hesitation. Do not think that a refusal would vex me.
"It is ejectment, brought by Mr. Pendarrel, and, I have no doubt, for all the property which is left me here. There can be only three grounds for the claim. First, they may set up some will or deed, which would be forged. Secondly, they may impeach the marriage of my grandfather (Mr. Pendarrel's half brother), which is very unlikely. Thirdly, they may attack my father's; which, I write it with shame and sorrow, is what I believe they mean to do.
"Winter is acquainted with all the circumstances of that unhappy union. I have written to him; but I could not dwell upon the subject. To you I would hint, that it is among my maternal relations that a clue to the plot will probably be found. They have, perhaps, had reason to complain, and they have passion enough to seek revenge.
"I levy a tax upon your friendship in asking you to engage in a cause which, you will at once see, involves many personal considerations, and must produce great pain. Do not, I again say, consider yourself in any way bound to pay it; and believe me, whatever be your decision, to be, my dear Rereworth,
"Still faithfully yours,
"Randolph Trevethlan."
These letters, together with one from Mr. Griffith, were despatched to their destination that afternoon. Griffith wrote at much greater length than his master, refreshing Mr. Winter's memory as to many points in the family history. In particular, he detailed all the facts relating to the marriage of Margaret Basset. For it was impossible not to be struck by the idea that this action might be an attempt to give effect to the vulgar rumours. And Griffith remembered, with some anxiety, that the only witness to the ceremony, at present available, was old Maud Basset, and that it was not quite certain which way her testimony might incline. On the other hand, the steward found pleasure in thinking that they could raise so strong a presumption in favour of the marriage, from Mr. Trevethlan's own conduct, and from the conviction of all his household, as could only be shaken by evidence of the most peremptory description.
The temporary excitement which had strung Randolph's nerves and restored his composure while he wrote his letters, died away when they were finished. The sport with which all the country was alive, precluded him from his usual excursion. He ascended with Helen to the roof of the watch-tower, which commanded a very extensive view of the scene of action, and looked listlessly upon the animated landscape. The shouts of the contending parties came up to the brother and sister, now near and now distant, now from the hollow of a dell, now from the ridge of an upland. Sometimes the holder of the ball led the conflict full in their sight; sometimes it disappeared in the intricacy of a thicket; sometimes it approached, and Trevethlan seemed to be winning; then it receded, and victory appeared to favour Pendarrel. Immediately below them, at the foot of the base-court was the village-green, gay with the bright ribands and merry laughter of the country girls. Helen partly forgot the cares of the new law-suit, in gazing on the jocund landscape.
"I wonder, Randolph," she said, "whether Mercy Page's sweetheart is in the game to-day. The poor little girl's been quite fretting about him, ever since he went away to London; and she owned to me, the other day, she had been to drop a pebble in Madron Well, and that wretched dame Gudhan frightened her half out of her wits."
"Who is Mercy's sweetheart?" her brother asked.
"Oh, it is Michael Sinson. He is in the service of Mrs. Pendarrel." Helen had answered before she recollected the morning's communication.
"Ha! indeed!" Randolph exclaimed.
"And Polydore tells me that Edward Owen is just as peevish for her sake," the sister continued, "as she for her absent swain's. And he goes much among the discontented, and attends the night meetings, all out of love. So you see there's quite a little romance in the hamlet; Romeo and Juliet en paysan."
"Of old," Randolph said, mechanically, for his thoughts were otherwise engaged, "he would have gone on the high road."