a farm sale. Its wiry jingle spoke of
evolution from harpsichord or spinet to the modern instrument; its
yellow keys, from which the ivory in some cases was missing, and its
high back, stained silk front, and fretted veneer indicated age; while
above the keyboard a label, now growing indistinct, set forth that one
"William Harper, of Red Lion Street, Maker of piano-fortes to his late
Majesty" was responsible for the instrument very early in the century.

Now Will joined the discussion, but his mother would take no denial.

"These chairs and sofa be yours, and the piano's my present to Phoebe.
She'll play to you of a Sunday afternoon belike."

"An' it's here she'll do it; for my Sundays'll be spent along with you,
of coourse, 'cept when you comes up to my farm to spend 'em. That's what
I hope'll fall out; an' I want to see Miller theer, tu, after he've
found I'm right and he'm wrong."

But the event proved that, even in his new capacity as a man of money
and a landholder, Will was not to win much ground with Mr. Lyddon. Two
circumstances contributed to the continued conflict, and just as Phoebe
was congratulating herself and others upon the increasing amity between
her father and her husband matters fell out which caused the miller to
give up all hope of Will for the hundredth time. First came the
occupancy of Newtake at a rent Mr. Lyddon considered excessive; and then
followed a circumstance that touched the miller himself, for, by the
offer of two shillings more a week than he received at Monks Barton,
Will tempted into his service a labourer held in great esteem by his
father-in-law.

Sam Bonus appeared the incarnation of red Devon earth, built up on solid
beef and mutton. His tanned face was framed in crisp black hair that no
razor had ever touched; his eyes were deep-set and bright; his narrow
brow was wrinkled, not with thought, but as the ape's. A remarkably tall
and powerful frame supported Sam's little head. He laboured like a horse
and gave as little trouble, triumphed in feats of brute strength,
laughed at a day's work, never knew ache or pain. He had always greatly
admired Blanchard, and, faced with the tempting bait of a florin a week
more than his present wage, abandoned Monks Barton and readily followed
Will to the Moor. His defection was greatly deplored, and though Will
told Mr. Blee what he intended beforehand, and made no secret of his
design to secure Sam if possible, Billy discredited the inform