"Yes. I was telling that story to our new neighbour, Colonel Quaritch,
last night--a very nice fellow, by the way; you should go and call
upon him."

"I wonder what he did with it," said Mr. Quest.

"Ah, so do I, and so will many another, I dare say. I wish that I
could find it, I'm sure. It's wanted badly enough now-a-days. But that
reminds me, Quest. You will have gathered my difficulty from my note
and what George told you. You see this man Janter--thanks to that
confounded fellow, Major Boston, and his action about those College
Lands--has thrown up the Moat Farm, and George tells me that there is
not another tenant to be had for love or money. In fact, you know what
it is, one can't get tenants now-a-days, they simply are not to be
had. Well, under these circumstances, there is, of course, only one
thing to be done that I know of, and that is to take the farm in hand
and farm it myself. It is quite impossible to let the place fall out
of cultivation--and that is what would happen otherwise, for if I were
to lay it down in grass it would cost a considerable sum, and be seven
or eight years before I got any return."

The Squire paused and Mr. Quest said nothing.

"Well," he went on, "that being so, the next thing to do is to obtain
the necessary cash to pay Janter his valuation and stock the place--
about four thousand would do it, or perhaps," he added, with an access
of generous confidence, "we had better say five. There are about fifty
acres of those low-lying meadows which want to be thoroughly bush
drained--bushes are quite as good as pipes for that stiff land, if