“I couldn’t, sir, if another has a better right to them than I have,” I answered. “I lived on in the house and used the wherry because I was sure that old Tom would have wished me to do so, but then I didn’t know that he had any relation to claim them.”
“And you don’t know that he has any relation now,” said Mr Chalk; “that has to be proved, my lad. The law requires proof; that’s the beauty of the law. The man may swear till he’s black in the face that he is the deceased’s nephew, but if he has no proof he’ll not gain his cause.”
Bob Fox was highly delighted with our visit to the lawyer.
“I told you so, lad; I told you so!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands; “t’other chap will find he has met his match. Bless you! Old Chalk’s as keen as a razor.”
As I could not use the wherry, I went home feeling in much better spirits than before about our prospects. I was able even to cheer up Mary and Nancy. I told them that, by Lawyer Chalk’s advice, we were not to quit the house, and that he would manage everything. No one appeared during the day. The next morning we had breakfast as usual, and as the time went by I was beginning to hope that we should be unmolested, when two rough-looking men came to the door, and, though Nancy sprang up to bar them out, in they walked. One of them then thrust a paper out to her, but she drew back her hand as if it had been a hot iron. The man again attempted to make her take it. “One of you must have it,” he growled out.
“No, no! I couldn’t make head or tail of it if I did,” answered Nancy, still drawing back.
“Let me have it,” I said, wishing to know what the men really came for.
“The sum total is, that you and the rest of you are to move away from this, and if you don’t go sharp we’re to turn you out!” exclaimed the bailiff, losing patience at the time I took to read the document. “It’s an order of ejectment, you’ll understand.”
“Don’t you mind what it is, Peter!” exclaimed Nancy; “Mr Chalk said we was to stay here, and stay we will for all the scraps of paper in the world!” And Nancy, seating herself in a chair, folded her arms, and cast defiant looks at the officers of the law.
They were, however, up to the emergency. Before either she or I were aware of what they were about to do, they had secured her arms to the back of the chair, and then, lifting it and her up, carried her out of the house and deposited her in the street, in spite of the incautious attempt I made to effect a rescue. The moment I got outside the house one of the bailiffs, turning round, seized me in a vice-like grasp, and the other then entering, led out Mary, who saw that resistance was hopeless. He next walked back, took the key from the door, and, having locked it, released Nancy and re-entered the house with the chair. Before Nancy could follow him he had shut himself in, while his companion, letting me go with a shove which sent me staggering across the street, walked off, I concluded to tell the lawyer who sent him and his mate that they had got possession of the house.