and filling himself up wi' pride."
"Dunno as I couldn't see it another way," said the bailiff thoughtfully.
"What other way? Never to look at his own son's moniment?"
"Well, mebbe-"
"Mebbe?" Thomas cried with scorn. "Look at his darter! He ain't but one, and he be swilling o' money! Do he make much of her, James Fewtrell? And titivate her, and pull her ears bytimes same as you with your grand-darters? And get her a horse as you might call a horse? You know he don't. If she's not quick, it's a nod and be damned, same as to you and me!"
Old Fewtrell considered. "Not right out the same," he decided.
"Right out, I say. You've been with him all your life. You've never knowed no other and you're getting old, and Calamity, he be old too, and may put up with it. But I don't starve for no Squire, and I'm for more wage. I was in Aldersbury Saturday and wages is up and more work than men! While here I'm a-toiling for what you got twenty year ago. But not me! I bin to Manchester. And so I'm going to tell Squire."
The bailiff grinned. "Mebbe he'll take a stick same as before."
"He'd best not!" Thomas said, with an ugly look. "He'd best take care, or-"
"Whist! Whist! lad. You be playing for trouble. Here be Squire."
The Squire glared at them, but he did not stop. He stalked into the house and, passing through it, went out by the front door. He intended to turn right-handed, and enter the high-terraced garden facing south, in which he was wont to take, even in winter, a few turns of a morning. But something caught his eye, and he paused. "Who's this?" he muttered, and shading his eyes made out a moment later that the stranger was Ovington. A visit from him was rare enough to be a portent, and the figure of his bank balance passed through the Squire's mind. Had he been rash? Ovington's was a new concern; was anything wrong? Then another idea, hardly more welcome, occurred to him: had the banker come on his nephew's account?
If so-however, he would soon know, for the visitor was by this time half-way up the winding drive, sunk between high banks, which, leaving the road a third of a mile from the house, presently forked, the left branch swerving through a grove of beech trees to the front entrance, the right making straight for the stables.
The Squire met his visitor at the gate and, raising his voice, shouted for Thomas. "I am sorry to trespass on you so early," Ovington said as he dismounted. "A little matter of business, Mr. Griffin, if I may trouble you."
The old man did not say that it was no trespass, but he stood aside punctiliously for the other to precede him through the gate. Then, "You'll stay to eat something after your ride?" he said.
"No, I thank you. I must be in town by noon."
"A glass of Madeira?"
"Nothing, Squire, I thank you. My business will not take long."
By this time they stood in the room in which the Squire lived and did his business. He pointed courteously to a chair. He was shabby, in well-worn homespun and gaiters, and the room was shabby, walled with bound Quarterlies and old farm books, and littered with spurs and dog leashes-its main window looked into the stable yard. But there was about the man a dignity implied rather than expressed, which the spruce banker in his shining Hessians owned and envied. The Squire could look at men so that they grew uneasy under his eye, and for a moment, owning his domination, the visitor doubted of success. But then again the room was so shabby. He took heart of grace.
"I shouldn't trouble you, Mr. Griffin," he said, sitting back with an assumption of ease, while the Squire from his old leather chair observed him warily, "except on a matter of importance. You will have heard that there is a scheme on foot to increase the value of the woollen industry by introducing a steam railroad. This is a new invention which, I admit, has not yet been proved, but I have examined it as a business man, and I think that much is to be expected from it. A limited company is being formed to carry out the plan, if it prove to be feasible. Sir Charles Woosenham has agreed to be Chairman, Mr. Acherley and other gentlemen of the county are taking part, and I am commissioned by them to approach you. I have the plans here-"
"What do you want?" The Squire's tone was uncompromising. He made no movement towards taking the plans.
"If you will allow me to explain?"
The old man sat back in his chair.
"The railroad will be a continuation of the Birmingham and Aldersbury railroad, which is in strong hands at Birmingham. Such a scheme would be too large for us. That, again, is a continuation of the London and Birmingham railroad."
"Built?"
"Oh no. Not yet, of course."
"Begun, then?"
"No, but-"
"Projected?"
"Precisely, projected, the plans approved, the Bill in preparation."
"But nothing done?"
"Nothing actually done as yet," the banker admitted, somewhat dashed. "But if we wait until these works are finished we shall find ourselves anticipated.
"Ah!"
"We wish, therefore, to be early in the field. Much has appeared in the papers about this mode of transport, and you are doubtless familiar with it. I have myself inquired into it, and the opinion of financial men in London is that these railroads will be very lucrative, paying dividends of from ten to twenty-five per cent."
The Squire raised his eyebrows.
"I have the plans here," the banker continued, once more producing them. "Our road runs over the land of six small owners, who have all agreed to the terms offered. It then enters on the Woosenham outlying property, and thence, before reaching Mr. Acherley's, proceeds over the Garth estate, serving your mills, the tenant of one of which joins our board. If you will look at the plans?" Again Ovington held them out.
But the old man put them aside. "I don't want to see them," he said.
"But, Squire, if you would kindly glance-"
"I don't want to see them. What do you want?"
Ovington paused to consider the most favorable light in which he could place the matter. "First, Mr. Griffin, your presence on the Board. We attach the highest importance to that. Secondly, a way-leave over your land for which the Company will pay-pay most handsomely, although the value added to your mills will far exceed the immediate profit."
"You want to carry your railroad over Garth?"
"Yes."
"Not a yard!" The old man tapped the table before him. "Not a foot!"
"But our terms-if you would allow me to explain them?"
"I don't want to hear them. I am not going to sell my birthright, whatever they are. You don't understand me? Well, you can understand this." And abruptly the Squire sat up. "I'll have none of your d-d smoking, stinking steam-wagons on my land in my time! Oh, I've read about them in more places than the papers, sir, and I'll not sell my birthright and my people's birthright-of clean air and clean water and clean soil for any mess of pottage you can offer! That's my answer, Mr. Ovington."
"But the railroad will not come within a mile of Garth."
"It will not come
