"And since your seventeenth progenitor took the trouble to live at
Penalva Court," said Campbell, "instead of throwing away what little
moral influence he had by going into the Guards, and spending his time
between Rotten Row and Cowes."

"Hardly fair, Major Campbell!" quoth Tom; "you forget that in the old
times, if the Lord of Aberalva was responsible for his people, he had
also by law the power of making them obey him."

"The long and the short of it is, then," said Scoutbush a little tartly,
"that I can do nothing."

"You can put to rights the cottages which are still in your hands, my
lord. For the rest, my only remaining hope lies in the last person whom
one would usually depute on such an errand."

"Who is that?"

"The schoolmistress."

"The who?" asked Scoutbush.

"The schoolmistress; at whose house Major Campbell lodges."

And Tom told them, succinctly, enough to justify his strange assertion.

"If you doubt me, my lord, I advise you to ask Mr. Headley. He is no
friend of hers; being a high churchman, while she is a little inclined
to be schismatic; but an enemy's opinion will be all the more honest."