That night Brendon smoked his pipe in a cart-shed and spoke to Mr. Tapson. "I'm sorry I ordered you to come to me, Joe," he said, "and I'm sorrier still that I didn't get the fork when you told me to do it. Master's made all clear to me. Prout's head man and you're second--so there it stands; and you shan't have no call to find fault again." "Enough said," answered the other. "Us must all stand up for ourselves in this world, Brendon, because there's nobody else to do it. Therefore I up and spoke. But I'm very desirous to be friends, and I know your good parts." "So be it then," answered Daniel. CHAPTER IX THE COMMITTEE MEETS Mr. Churchward found some difficulty in arranging a representative committee to consider the water leat celebrations. Many refused to join him--among others Woodrow. To the master of Ruddyford he wrote, in his expansive way, and begged that he would "represent the outlying agricultural interests"; but Hilary declined, and John Prout consented to fill his place. "'Tis all smoke and wind, no doubt, but 'twill please the man," he said. There met together at the schoolmaster's house Jarratt Weekes, old Valentine Huggins, Noah Pearn--the landlord of the Castle Inn--John Prout, and two others--men of repute in Lydford. They were the miller, Jacob Taverner, and the postmaster, a weak and pink-eyed person, called Nathaniel Spry. Him Mr. Churchward regarded as a satellite, and patronized in a manner at once unctuous and august. Weekes opened the proceedings while the men were getting out of their coats. "Is Squire Calmady coming?" he asked. "I regret to say that he is not," answered the schoolmaster. "I approached him _in propriâ personâ_ by letter, and he replied that the meeting would be very safe in our hands. I hope you all think the same. Anyhow, we have paid him the compliment; we can do no more." "There's no gentlefolks on the committee, then?" Mr. Taverner, who was a stout radical, and saturated with class prejudice, resented this suggestion. "Gentle or not gentle, Jarratt Weekes, we are all pretty solid men, and know how to behave, I believe." "I vote Mr. Churchward into the chair, neighbours," said the postmaster. "Then we shall have wisdom over the committee." Adam bridled, but held up his hand in a deprecating manner. "I want no power--nothing of the sort. I'm only your servant in this matter. But since somebody must--in fact, I leave myself in your hands." "'Tis your own house, so you'd better take the lead, and I'll second the motion," declared John Prout. "Shall us smoke, or would it be out of order?" asked the landlord of the Castle Inn. Spry looked imploringly at the schoolmaster. He hated the smell of tobacco, and suffered from a nervous cough. But Mr. Churchward liked his pipe as well as smaller men, and he declared for smoke.