ot needful, and he would
have none of it.

CHAPTER 6

AN ASSAULT

Surely after all,
The noblest answer unto such
Is perfect stillness when they brawl--_Tennyson_

I have more than once brought up the name of Mr. Maskew; and as I shall
have other things to tell of him later on, I may as well relate here what
manner of man he was. His stature was but medium, not exceeding five feet
four inches, I think; and to make the most of it, he flung his head far
back, and gave himself a little strut in walking. He had a thin face with
a sharp nose that looked as if it would peck you, and grey eyes that
could pierce a millstone if there was a guinea on the far side of it. His
hair, for he wore his own, had been red, though it was now grizzled; and
the colour of it was set down in Moonfleet to his being a Scotchman, for
we thought all Scotchmen were red-headed. He was a lawyer by profession,
and having made money in Edinburgh, had gone so far south as Moonfleet to
get quit, as was said, of the memories of rascally deeds. It was about
four years since he bought a parcel of the Mohune Estate, which had been
breaking up and selling piecemeal for a generation; and on his land stood
the Manor House, or so much of it as was left. Of the mansion I have
spoken before. It was a very long house of two storeys, with a projecting
gable and doorway in the middle, and at each end gabled wings running out
crosswise. The Maskews lived in one of these wings, and that was the only
habitable portion of the place; for as to the rest, the glass was out of
the windows, and in some places the roofs had fallen in. Mr. Maskew made
no attempt to repair house or grounds, and the bough of the great cedar
which the snows had brought down in '49 still blocked the drive. The
entrance to the house was through the porchway in the middle, but more
than one tumble-down corridor had to be threaded before one reached
the inhabited wing; while fowls and pigs and squirrels had possession of
the terrace lawns in front. It was not for want of money that Maskew let
things remain thus, for men said that he was rich enough, only that his
mood was miserly; and perhaps, also, it was the lack of woman's company
that made him think so little of neatness and order. For his wife was
dead; and though he had a daughter, she was young, and had not yet weight
enough to make her father do things that he did not choose.

Till Maskew came there had been non