"But you do not deny it was the same superstitious and Popish ceremony and festival abolished by law." "No, sir," Stead allowed, though rather by gesture than word. "Now, look you here, young Kenton, I ask no questions. I do not want to bring anyone into trouble, and you are a hard-working, honest lad by what they tell me, who have a brother fighting in the good Cause and have suffered from the lawless malignants yourself. Was it not the Prince's troopers that wrought this ruin?" pointing towards the blackened gable, "and shot down your father? Aye! The more shame you should hold with them! I wish you no harm I say, nor the blinded folk who must have abused your simplicity: but I am a justice of the peace, and I will not have laws broken on my land. If this thing should happen again, I shall remember that you have no regular or lawful tenure of this holding, and put you forth from it." He waited, but a threat always made silent resistance easy to Steadfast, and there was no answer. Mr. Elmwood, however, let that pass, for he was not a hard or a fanatical man, and he knew that to hold such a service was not such an easy matter that it was likely to be soon repeated. He looked round at the well-mended fences, the clean ground, and the tokens of intelligent industry around, and the clean homespun shirt sleeves that spoke of the notable manager at home. "You are an industrious fellow, my good lad," he said, "how long have you had this farm to yourself?" "Getting on for five years, your honour," said Steadfast. "And is that your brother?" "Yes, please your honour," picking Ben up in his arms to prevent the barley from being pulled up by way of helping him. "How many of you are there?" "Five of us, sir, but my eldest brother is in Captain Venn's troop." "So I heard, and what is this about a child besides?" "An orphan, sir, I found after the skirmish at the mill stream, who was left with us till her friends can send after her." "Well, well. You seem a worthy youth," said Mr. Elmwood, who was certainly struck and touched by the silent uncomplaining resolution of the mere stripling who had borne so heavy a burthen. "If you were heartily one of us, I should be glad to make you woodward, instead of old Tomkins, and build up yonder house for you, but I cannot do it for one who is hankering after prelacy, and might use the place for I know not what plots and conspiracies of the malignants." Again Steadfast took refuge in a little bow of acknowledgment, but kept his lips shut, till again the squire demanded, "What do you think of it? There's a fair offer. What have you to say for yourself?" He had collected himself and answered, "I thank you, sir. You are very good. If you made me woodward, I would serve your honour faithfully, and have no plots or the like there. But, your honour, I was bred up in the Church and I cannot sell myself."