crops will have to be valued, too, and a lot of other matters before I can realise on my property."
He looked very grave, but said nothing for some time.
"I will do what I can at once," he grunted, at length; "but believe me, Jasper, my boy, Nicholas Tresidder is a clever dog—a very clever dog. He's been set to work on this bone, and he'll leave nothing on it—mark my words, he'll leave nothing on it."
"He has left nothing," I replied; "I doubt if the stock will fetch very little more than the £500 my father spent when he took Elmwater Barton from my Grandfather Quethiock."
Lawyer Trefry shook his head and grunted again; but he made no remark, and so I left, thinking that I knew the worst. I imagined that when the stock was sold I should be worth several hundred pounds, and with this as a nucleus, I should have something to give me a fair start.
And so the day of the sale of the stock on the Barton was fixed, but before that day came another letter was brought by a messenger of Lawyer Nicholas Tresidder from Falmouth. This letter stated that as no rent had been paid since the death of Margaret Pennington, the heirs of the late Peter Quethiock claimed six years' rent, as they were entitled to do by the law of the land.
I knew now what Lawyer Trefry meant when he said that Lawyer Tresidder would pick the bone clean. He had seen this coming, while I, young and ignorant of the law, had never dreamed of it. Old Betsey Fraddam had said that Richard Tresidder would pay me out, and he had done so now. Six years' rent would swallow up the value of the stock, and would take every penny I possessed. Thus at twenty I, who, but for the fraud and deceit of the Tresidders, would be the owner of Pennington, would be absolutely homeless and penniless. Then for the first time a great feeling of hate came into my heart, and then, too, I swore that I would be revenged for the injury that was done to me.
Again I went to Lawyer Trefry, and again he grunted.
"I expected this," he said; "I knew it would come. Nick Tresidder is a clever dog; I was sure he would pick the bone clean."
"And there is no hope for me?" I asked, anxiously.
"You will have your youth, your health and strength, and your liberty," he replied. "I do not see how they can rob you of that; no, even Nick Tresidder can't rob you of that!"
"But the rest?"
"It will have to go, it must all go; there is no hope for it—none at all," and the lawyer grunted again.
I will not describe what took place during the next few weeks—there is no need; enough to say that all I had was taken, that I was stripped of all I possessed, and was left a homeless beggar.
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