no one over the moat, though the man Jacob, rode to the nearest market
every week on the horse which had dragged the baggage, to bring what was
required, which, it was said, was not much more than was necessary to
keep the bodies and souls of three people together.

Numerous and strange were the speculations made by all people on the
moor upon these new tenants of Dymock's Tower, and Shanty's shed was a
principal scene of these speculations. Various were the reproaches which
were cast on the strangers, and no name was too bad for them.

"Our old Laird," one remarked, "was worth ten thousand such. As long as
he had a crust, he would divide it with any one that wanted it. Mark but
his behaviour to the poor orphan, who is now become the finest girl,
notwithstanding her dark skin, in all the country round."

Then followed speculations on the parentage of Tamar, and old Shanty
asserted that he believed her to be nothing more or less than the
daughter of the gipsy hag who had laid her at his door. Some said she
was much to good to be the child of a gipsy; and then Shanty asserted,
that the grace of God could counteract not only the nature of a child of
a vagrant of the worst description, but even that of such vagrant
himself; the Spirit of God being quick and powerful, and sharper than a
two-edged sword.

Shanty was a sort of oracle amongst his simple neighbours, and what he
said was not often disputed to his face; nevertheless, there was not an
individual on the moor who knew Tamar, who did not believe her to be a
princess in disguise or something very wonderful; and, at the bottom of
her heart, poor Tamar still indulged this same belief, though she did
not now, as formerly express it.