"By heaven! I did suppose that no one could get the better of me; but I had not reckoned on the craft of an old country farmer, in whom sharp dealing has gone down from father to son, and roguery has been an heritage never parted with, never diminished, always bettered with each generation. And I have had to take this scurvy name of Cleverdon so as to involve me in the disgrace of the family, and mated with it to a maid with an ugly face and no wit--all to get me entangled so that I must with my own hands pull the Cleverdons--the Cleverdons," he sneered and spat on the floor, "pull with my hands, these Cleverdons out of the ditch into which they have tumbled, or lie down and be swallowed up in the mire with them. I will not do it. I will neither help you nor go into the dirt with you. I will leave you to yourselves, and laugh till my sides crack when you are turned out of the house. Where will you go--you and your beggarly daughter? Shall I see if there be room in the poorhouse at Peter Tavy? Listen!" he screamed and turned to the attorney, "listen to what this man, this old grey-haired rascal has done. He comes of a breed of sheep-dealers, accustomed to get a wether between the knees and sheer her; got horny hands from the plough-tail, boots that smell of the stables, arms accustomed to heave the dung-fork--this is what they have been, and he goes and buys Hall with other folks' money, and buys himself a coat of arms with other folks' money, and builds a mansion in place of his old tumble-about-the-ears farmhouse with other folks' money, and puts what money he will into the hands of that brag and bombast talker, his son, to humble and insult the young gentles of good blood and name--and, mark you, it is other folks' money--and then--then he offers to make me his heir if I will take his daughter, whom no one else will look at and give a thank-you for, and assume his name--his name that reeks of the stable-yard. When I do so, then I find I am heir to nothing but beggary!" He shrieked with rage, and held out his hands threateningly at the old man. The Squire became at first purple with rage; he rose from his seat slowly. His eyes glittered like steel. He was not the man to be spoken to in this manner, to be insulted in himself and his family! His hand clenched. Old though he was, his sinews were tough and his hands were heavy. Fox came at him with head down between his shoulders, his sharp chin extended, his hand like the claws of a hawk catching the air. The attorney stepped between them, or father and son-in-law would have done each other an injury. He laid hold of Fox by the shoulder and thrust him back, and bade him cease from profitless abuse of an unfortunate man, who was, moreover, his father, and to collect his thoughts, consider the situation, and decide whether he and his father would find the money and save Hall.