generosity as to whether I, his
grandson, Jasper Pennington, should remain at the Barton free of all
rent, and whether the land should be eventually mine. Thus, according to
the lawyer's explanation, it was left to my uncles' generosity and
judgment as to whether my grandfather's desire should be carried out. I
desired that this part of the will should be read again, but so many
words were used that I had difficulty in making head or tail of it. All
the time I noticed that my uncles looked very uneasy.
Now, I know that my grandfather was very fond of me, and in spite of
the fact that I had been robbed of my rightful heritage, he was proud
that he had a Pennington for a grandson. Thus I am sure that it was his
will that I should have the Barton for my own. But during the last few
years he had been very feeble and infirm, and thus in the hands of a
clever lawyer he could easily be deceived as to what was legal.
I will not attempt to give a lengthy account of what followed. Indeed, I
have not a very distinct remembrance. I was not long in seeing what was
in the minds of my two uncles, and I quickly realised that they had been
in league with the Tresidders; and so, feeling that it was their
intention to defraud me, I became dazed and bewildered. I have a
confused recollection of asking some questions, and of the replies
given, and after hearing them I left the house, with the consciousness
that I was not the owner of Elmwater Barton, but a tenant liable to be
dismissed by my uncles, both of whom were, I was sure, tools of Richard
Tresidder.
Still, I determined not to give up without a struggle, so I rode to
Truro that same day and saw Lawyer Trefry, the son of the old lawyer who
drew up my grandfather's will. He listened to my story very attentively,
and when I had finished declared that Nicholas Tresidder was a clever
fellow.
"I think it is possible you may have a case though, Jasper," he said; "I
think you may have a case. I will see to it at once. I will examine the
will, and if there is a chance you may depend that I will seize on it.
But remember this: Nicholas Tresidder is a clever fellow, and when he
sets his mind on a thing it's a difficult thing to find him napping."
That night I went back to the Barton with a sad heart, speaking not a
word to any one. I longed to ease my pain by denouncing the people who
sought to work my ruin, but in spite of William Dawe's anxious
solicitations I held my peace. It is
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