Mr. Dymock would not listen to honest Shanty on this subject, much as he
respected him; and, indeed, the poor Laird was at this time deeply
oppressed with other matters.

He had, in his various speculations, so entirely neglected his own
affairs for some years past, that poverty, nay actual penury, was
staring in his face. He had formerly mortgaged, by little and little,
most of his lands, and nothing now remained to make money of, but the
Castle itself and a few acres around it, with the exception only of a
cottage and a small field, hitherto occupied by a labourer, which lay in
a kind of hollow on the side of the knoll, where the entrance of the
secret cavern was. This cottage was as remote from Dymock's Tower in one
way, as Shanty's shed was in another; although the three dwellings
formed together a sort of equilateral triangle. Mr. Dymock long
suspected that this labourer had done his share to waste his substance;
and once or twice it had occurred to him, that if he left the Castle he
might retire to the cottage. But yet, to part with the Castle, could he
find a purchaser, would, he feared, be death to Mrs. Margaret, and how
would Tamar bear it?--this glorious Maid of Judah, as he was wont to
call her,--this palm tree of Zion, this daughter of David,--the very
fine person, and very superior air of Tamar having confirmed him in the
impression of her noble birth. It was whilst these heavy thoughts
respecting what must be done in the management of his affairs dwelt on
his mind, that the same man who had finished the unfortunate plough
appeared again in Shanty's shed.

The old man recognized him immediately, although fourteen years had much
changed his appearance, and he at once charged him with having had some
concern with the woman who left the child.