Swithin was eyeing the speaker unkindly, as he did any young man who promised to score at the expense of his elders; but Ambrose was less sensitive. “You’ll be meanin’ I reckon ’at all t’ property has getten into t’ same hands? Well, it’s a sayin’ ’at all things has a’ end and a pudden has two; but what end there is i’ cloakin’ a thing up so as you don’t know whose brass is payin’ for t’ property I don’t see just at this minute. But it’s trew enough ’at ‘There’s things out o’ seet What’ll come to the leet If we nobbut have patience, and bide.’ as I once wrote when I was in my gifted mood. There was three more lines, but they’ve clean gone out o’ my mind, and I don’t know ’at it matters——” “You were never more gifted nor when you made that verse, Ambrus,” interrupted Jack; “and if we all live to see t’ end we shall see what a cunning devil this Inman is. It’s naught to none of us who t’ property belongs to; but I can tell you who t’ lawyer is ’at’s bought it——” “We know who he is, so you’re telling us nowt, Swithin broke in derisively; and Jack turned upon him with a note in his voice that the remark hardly accounted for. “I’m telling you what none of you’s had wit to pick out for yourselves; ’at it’s Inman’s lawyer—him ’at he’s recommended to Baldwin for this John Clegg business,—’at’s bought up all t’ property. _Now_ do I let a bit o’ daylight in?” From the expression on the men’s faces it was evident that he had; but the operation was not one that Swithin approved when he was not the operator, and he frowned on the young man as he said: “You’ve gone round and round, Jack, same as a pegged goat; but you’ve just brought us back to t’ point I left off at—‘What’s he doing it for?’ That’s what you haven’t tell’d us, and that’s what I ask?” “Aye, there’s lots of things you can ask,” answered Jack hotly, whilst a red flush overspread his face and his brow grew black. “I could ask what he’s doing it for when he meets your Polly first i’ one place then i’ another, but always where he thinks they won’t be seen. ‘There’s no mercy i’ Nature!’ No, by gen, there’s none in his; and one o’ these days you’ll be finding it out i’ your house to your sorrow.” Without waiting to see the effect of this outburst—perhaps because he was too ashamed of what it revealed—he pulled forward his cap and left the assembly. Swithin’s mouth was wide open; but except for a furtive glance none of the men dared to look at him, save only old Ambrose. “It’s t’ way o’ Natur’, Swithin——” he began; but by this time the other had found his breath, and he broke forth: “T’ way o’ Natur’; If he hurts our Polly——! but I don’t believe a word on’t, and I’ll break yon Jack Pearce his neck for him! She’s more sense nor to let such as Inman go near her. Why, bless her, it ’ud kill her mother if owt happened t’ lass!”