when he hadn't an ounce too much
flesh, weighed over eleven score pounds. What my father would have done
by him I know not, but while he was in the act of thrashing him two of
Tresidder's men came up, and thus the business ended, at least for the
time. A little while later my father was summoned for attempted murder.

The affair was the talk of Cornwall for some time--at least, that part
of Cornwall--and most people thought my father would be hanged. The
magistrates, who knew the Penningtons and liked them, however, did not
allow this; but he had to pay Tresidder a sum of money which, unless he
were helped, meant his utter ruin.

Again had Richard Tresidder and his mother, who, I believe, was behind
all this, got the upper hand of my father, and again by unfair means.
Was it a wonder, then, that Jasper Pennington should regard them as
enemies? Was it any wonder that I, when I came to know about these
things, should feel bitterly?

After the sentence was passed my father, wondering what to do, went to
see Betsey Fraddam, the witch.

"Betsey," said my father, "tell the truth about my cattle. You can't
harm me, because I'm the oldest son, indeed the only son, but I can
harm you. Did Tresidder hire you to ill-wish the cattle?"

"Jasper," said Betsey, "ded 'ee bait un--ded 'ee bait un, now, right
bad? Zay you ded, now."

"Yes, I did," said my father. "I'm glad the two men came up, or I should
have murder on my conscience, and that's not right, even when the man is
your enemy."

"But you ded bait un! Aw! aw! Jasper; ther's they that can kill, an'
ther's they that can cure. Some can do both."

"You can, Betsey."

"P'raps I can, Jasper. Ave 'ee seed my boy Eli, Jasper?"

"No," replied my father.

"Then come in and zee un--come in, Jasper," and she led the way into the
cottage.

My father, who told me this years after, said he should never forget the
curious feeling that came over him as he saw Betsey Fraddam's son. He
looked even as a child like an old man, and he had a wild look in his
eyes that made him shudder.

"He 'ed'n wot you may call a purty cheeld, es a, then?" asked Betsey.

My father did not reply.

"Well, we ca'ant expect for Betsey Fraddam to 'ave purty cheldern, can
us, then?"

My father was still silent, for Betsey had a strange way with her that
made people afraid. Even I can remember that.

"You may have a son some day, Jasper."

"No," said my father.

"But you may," said Betsey, "you