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ONE:"I was going to say, my Lord, that poor Stephen here has called nobody to speak to his good character, but may be it isn't wanting, for every man here, except one would go a hundred miles to say a good word for him��But my Lord, I was thinking how much money that house of Holgrave's cost in building��Let me see��about twenty florences, and then at a shilling a head from all of us here," looking round upon the yeomen, "would just build it up again��I for one would not care about doing the smith's work at half price, and there's Denby the mason, and Cosgrave the carpenter, say they would do their work at the same rate��By St. Nicholas! (using his favorite oath) twelve florences would be more than enough��Well then my Lord, the business might be settled,"��and he paused as if debating whether he should go farther.About three years later Sir Ralph Bardon died. He died of typhus caught on one of Reuben's insanitary cottages, where he had been nursing a sick boy. The village was inclined to look upon him as a martyr and Reuben as his murderer, but Reuben himself preserved a contemptuous attitude. "If I'd wanted anything as much as he wanted them houses o' mine, I'm hemmed if I wudn't have had 'em," he said, "and all he could do wur to die of 'em"��and he spat.

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