But this was not all,--Maltravers acquired in the neighbourhood the reputation of a man of business.

Mr.
Justis was abruptly dismissed; with the help of the bailiff Maltravers became his own steward.

His parting address to this personage was characteristic of the mingled harshness and justice of Maltravers.
"Sir," said he, as they closed their accounts, "I discharge you because you are a rascal,--there can be no dispute about that; you have plundered your owner, yet you have ground his tenants, and neglected the poor.

My villages are filled with paupers, my rent-roll is reduced a fourth; and yet, while some of my tenants appear to pay nominal rents (why, you best know),--others are screwed up higher than any man's in the country.

You are a rogue, Mr.Justis,--your own account-books show it; and if I send them to a lawyer, you would have to refund a sum that I could apply very advantageously to the rectification of your blunders." "I hope, sir," said the steward, conscience-stricken and appalled,--"I hope you will not ruin me; indeed, indeed, if I was called upon to refund, I should go to jail." "Make yourself easy, sir.