But best I liked his tales of his first master--dead now these many years--over at Bollingdean. A good man, a just man, and kind to the poor, but terrible hard and cautious. A Quaker. Couldn't bear to be kept waiting. Everything must be right. He used to lend money to smaller men now and then--he was a big maltster himself, with a small farm just for his own amusement--and one market day one of these debtors--Mr. Raikes, the ironmonger--was to meet him at the Black Horse yard at three o'clock to pay him one hundred pounds and clear off his debt. That was a Wednesday. The trap was ready; the Master and his nephew came into the yard; the Master looked at his watch, and precisely at three whipped up and away. Uncle Jonah--then a small stable-boy--was sitting behind, and as the trap sped along the High Street towards home he noticed Mr. Raikes running after it. He ventured to tell his master, who at once stopped. Mr. Raikes came panting up. "Here you are, Mr. Willing," he gasped, proffering a canvas bag. "I'm sorry I missed you, but I had a customer." "What is it in the bag?" Mr. Willing asked. "The money," said Mr. Raikes. "The Master took out his watch and turned to his nephew. 'I had no appointment, had I,' he asked, 'to see anyone about money in the High Street at five minutes past three? No, Mr. Raikes, not here. I'll see thee in thy shop next market day;' and off we went, leaving Mr. Raikes with his mouth open in the middle of the street. "When we got home, the Master said to his nephew, 'Take thy pencil and work out the interest at five per cent. on one hundred pounds for one week and let me know what it is.' Well, he did it and it came to one and elevenpence, and blowed if the Master didn't make Raikes pay the one and eleven-pence extra the next week and send it to the local hospital. That was what he was like. "Another time," Uncle Jonah went on, talking in broad Sussex, which I make no effort to reproduce, "a poor tramping woman gave birth to a baby under a hedge on his land. She was found in the morning and the Master was told about it. He asked exactly where she was and then gave orders for her to be carried into the Eight Acre barn and the doctor sent for. "'But the Low Bottom barn's a matter of a mile nearer,' said the man, 'and it's empty too.' "'Do as I tell thee,' said the Master, 'and let me know directly she is comfortable there and thy mistress will send her some soup from the house and go and see her.' "Well, we carried her there. It was too soft for a cart, so there was nothing for it but to place her on some straw on a hurdle and carry her every inch of the way. I helped, and my arms ache to this minute when I think of it. And the worst of it was we had to go past the other barn, which was all warm and snug, only a few yards away. You may be sure that we talked about what the Master was up to. But we weren't clever enough to guess right, not we.