After his conversation with Mr. Carlyon the Squire recovered his wonted serenity. So cheerful was he when he told his wife and son what was going to happen, that they refrained from giving utterance in his presence to their own feelings on the matter, for fear of bringing back his gloom. He rode over one day in the carrier’s cart to Truro to pay the interest on the Towers mortgage with the proceeds of a fine litter of pigs, and showed his lawyer the letter he had received from his professional brother. "An excellent practitioner, sharp as a needle," said the lawyer. "He came to me a while ago wanting to purchase the little bond I myself hold; but I refused him point-blank, and went so far as to express my surprise at Sir Bevil. He grinned at me, Mr. Trevanion—yes, grinned at me in the most unseemly way. ’Twas not Sir Bevil’s doing: that is one comfort." "Who bought up the bonds, then?" "That I cannot tell you: I do not know. No doubt a stranger, who has more money than judgment. I am sorry for this; I am indeed; and if there were any chance of getting metal out of the earth I could have transferred your mortgages with the greatest ease. As it is—but there, I won’t talk of it. As for my own little bond on the Towers, that may remain till Doomsday so far as I am concerned. It would cut me to the heart to see the old place in the hands of any one but a Trevanion." "You’re a good fellow, Trevenick," said the Squire, "and I’m grateful to you." "Not at all, not at all, my dear sir. I am perfectly satisfied with my investment." And the Squire returned home more cheerful than ever, convinced that lawyers were not all as dry as their parchments. The allotted month sped away. One afternoon, when Dick was at the parson’s, Sam Pollex ran at headlong speed up the road from the village, dashed into the house, and forgetting his manners, burst into the Squire’s room without knocking or wiping his boots, as he had been strictly enjoined always to do. "If ’ee please, sir," he panted, "there be a wagon full of females pulled up at the door o’ the Dower House yonder." "Indeed!" said the Squire. "Have you never seen females before, Sam?" "Iss I have, sometimes, in the village; but these be furriners, sir." "Well, maybe they’ll buy your eggs, and that’ll save you three-quarters of your walk to the village." Sam went out, looking very much puzzled. What had brought foreign females to his master’s house, he wondered? Within half an hour he was back again, this time a little less eager, though equally excited. He rapped on the door, and being bidden to enter, said, less breathlessly than before: "If ’ee please, sir, I seed a man on a hoss ride up to Dower House, and he went inside, sir, and ’twas Maister John." "Who? John who?" The questions came like pistol-shots. "His other name be Trevanion, it do seem," said the boy. The Squire got up in great agitation. "Are you sure, boy?" he asked.