The Squire was at home. On the door-step BOB was greeted by Mrs.
FARCEY, the Squire's sister. She looked at him in her bird-like
way. At other times she was elf-like, and played tricks with a lace
handkerchief.
"You know," she whispered to BOB, "we're all mad here. I'm mad,
and he," she continued, bobbing diminutively towards the Squire's
study-door, "he's mad too--as mad as a hatter."
Before BOB had time to answer this strange remark, the study-door flew
open, and Squire MUREWELL stepped forth. He rapped out an oath or two,
which BOB noticed with faint politeness, and ordered his visitor to
enter. The Squire was rough--very rough; but he had studied hard in
Germany.
"So you're the young fool," he observed, "who intends to tackle me.
Ha, ha, that's a good joke. I'll have you round my little finger in
two twos. Here," he went on gruffly, "take this book of mine in your
right hand. Throw your eyes up to the ceiling." ROBERT, wishing to
conciliate him, did as he desired. The eyes stuck there, and looked
down with a quick lovable look on the two men below. "Now," said
the Squire, "you can't see. Pronounce the word 'testimony' twice,
slowly. Think of a number, multiply by four, subtract the Thirty-nine
Articles, add a Sunday School and a packet of buns. Result, you're a
freethinker." And with that he bowed BOB out of the room.