"But I do know," said Doubledick positively. "We hain’t used the well for ten year, we all do know that. Last time ’twas only ’bacca and brandy—not a bale o’ silk or passel o’ lace. Well, then, this stuff bein’ buried in the earth, or we’d ha’ found it, I reckon it had been theer ever since the landfall, hunderds o’ years ago, in yer grandfer’s days, Zacky. See then, the true owner o’t, arter all this time, be the owner o’ the land, and that’s Maister John—would ha’ been Squire till three months ago. Hee, hee! They ha’ stole Maister John’s proputty." "I’ve heerd tell o’ what clever folks call treasure trove," said Mail, "and that belongs to King Jarge." "King Jarge ha’ got quite as much as he can do with up-along to Lunnon," said Doubledick, "and I don’t care who the man is, they silks and satins do belong now to Maister John. Well, do ’ee think they wicked robbers will hev the impedence to swear agen a honest free-trader like me? They’ll never do it. Maister John will claim the goods and threaten ’em wi’ the law, and that’ll be enough to keep their mouths shet, trust me." "How did this wonderful bit o’ knowledge come to ’ee neighbour, you bein’ away and all?" asked Mail. "Ah! little birds, Simon, little small birds," replied Doubledick with a knowing look. "Then maybe you do know another ’mazin’ bit o’ news," said Pendry. "Maybe I do. Tell to me, and then I’ll tell ’ee." "Why, young Squire this very day did save young Jake from bein’ drownded, didn’ he, Zacky?" "Iss, fay," said Tonkin, "and I went up-along to-night to say thank ’ee, as a true Cornishman oughted. And I tell ’ee what, friend, we been all wrong about Squire informin’ and all that. I axed un plain, man to man, and he telled me I oughter be ashamed to think sech a thing, and I believe un." "But did he deny it?" asked the innkeeper. "Well, no, I couldn’ go so far as to say that." "Ah, Zacky, you be a simple plum-baked feller, to be sure. Ye don’t know the windin’s and twistin’s o’ these high gentry. Plain simple souls like ’ee don’t know what eddication do for a man. That young whelp of Squire’s do go to pa’son and larn all the wisdom and cleverness of ancient men of old; ’a can twist ’ee round his finger, I b’lieve." Tonkin looked troubled. Doubledick had such a reputation for knowingness that his opinion carried weight. "Well, time will show," said Tonkin. "I tell ’ee one thing, that I won’t hev a hand no more in anything agen Squire, not till I do know sartin-sure. What do ’ee say, Nathan?" "Iss, I say the same. Let’s be sartin-sure, that’s what I say," replied Pendry. Doubledick puffed his scorn of such simple-mindedness. "Well, I be tired, neighbours," he said. "Riding a-hoss-back from Megavissey hev well-nigh scat me in jowds" (by which he meant, broken him in pieces), "and I yearn for my bed. We’ll see what we will see, I b’lieve."