Reuben walked home with me and gave me a connected account of what had happened. "You see, Ted's lived i' yon cottage ever sin' I can remember, Miss 'Olden. I mind him bringin' his wife to it, maybe forty year sin', though I were just a lad at t' time, an' it'll be 'appen five year sin' she died. They were neither on 'em chickens when they were wed, an' they never 'ad any childer; but they allus seemed to get on right enough, an' I don't know 'at I ever 'eard tell of 'em 'aving a wrong word wi' one another, or wi' anyone else, for that matter. They lived peaceable wi' all men, as t' Owd Book puts it, an' kept theirselves to theirselves. But they never really made any friends, as you may say. If you looked in you were welcome, but you were never asked to stop, an' they never called in to see t' neighbours. His missis wasn't one o' t' gossipin' sort, an' 'e were away a good deal wi' his cart; an' so we got into t' 'abit o' leavin' 'em alone. "She must have been seventy--ay, more than seventy--when she died (I believe it tells on t' stone, but I never took that much notice), an' one or two o' t' neighbours did look in during t' time 'at she were ill, an' did what they could for 'em both, and he were very grateful. But he made no fuss, an' when they put her away 'e just wiped 'is sleeve across 'is face, an' walked back an' started diggin' a trench in t' garden. "Well, it come out this mornin' 'at Barjona's bought t' cottage, an' it appears he gave Ted notice to quit last week-end, an' his time 's up on Saturda'. They say he's goin' to live there himself, an' I daresay it's likely enough. It belonged to a young chap down i' Fawkshill, an' Barjona has a 'old on him somehow, an' he's forced 'im to sell. I've been to see t' chap just now, but Barjona has got it right enough, deeds an' everything, an' law's law all the world over. Ted's fair rooted in t' soil o' that land, but he'll 'ave to shift, an' quick too. 'E's as hard as nails, is Barjona, an' Ted 'll have to clear out on Saturda'." "But what a shame!" I remarked; "could not someone be induced to buy it from Barjona? Perhaps he would sell at a profit." "I'm goin' to see him in t' mornin'," replied Reuben, "but I durst bet a five-pun note to a toothpick 'at he won't sell at any figure. I know Barjona. There's good wheat i' all men, but it's so lost among t' chaff i' Barjona's case 'at only t' Day o' Judgment 'll find it." Reuben called the next day to report the fruitlessness of his mission.