A large letter lay on the table in the study one morning, along with the other letters.  He did not recognise the handwriting, and naturally opened it first.  It was a ‘Round Robin’ from the tenants.  All had signed a memorial, setting forth the depression, and respectfully, even humbly, asking that their case be taken into consideration, and that a percentage be returned, or the rent reduced.  Their heavy land, they pointed out, had been peculiarly difficult to work in such seasons.  They had suffered exceptionally, and they trusted he would take no offence.  But there was an unmistakable hint that they were in earnest.  All signed it—­from the ungrateful largest tenants, who had had presents of fancy poultry, and whose wives had been smiled upon, down to the smallest working farmer, who could hardly be distinguished from his own labourers.

The squire read the names over twice, pointing to each with his sharp, scratchy finger-nail.  There were other letters from the members of the other branch of the family whose pensions were just due in full.  Suppose he returned ten per cent. of the rents to the tenants, that would not be like ten per cent. upon the entire rental, but perhaps twenty-five or thirty per cent, upon that portion of the rental which actually went into his own pocket.  A man can hardly be expected to cheerfully tender other people a third of his income.  But sprawling and ill-written as many of the signatures were to the ’Round Robin’—­the pen held by heavy hands—­yet they were genuine, and constituted a very substantial fact, that must be yielded to.

CHAPTER XIII

AN AMBITIOUS SQUIRE

Perhaps the magistrate most regular in his attendance at a certain country Petty Sessional Court is young Squire Marthorne.  Those who have had business to transact at such Courts know the difficulty that often arises from the absence of a second magistrate, there being a numerous class of cases with which one justice of the peace is not permitted to deal.  There must be two, and it sometimes happens that only one is forthcoming.  The procedure adopted varies much in different divisions, according to the population and the percentage of charges brought up.  Usually a particular day is appointed when it is understood that a full bench will be present, but it not unfrequently happens that another and less formal meeting has to be held, at which the attendance is uncertain.  The district in which Mr. Marthorne resides chances to be somewhat populous, and to include one or two turbulent places that furnish a steady supply of offenders.  The practice therefore is to hold two Courts a week; at one of these, on the Saturday, the more important cases are arranged to be heard, when there are always plenty of magistrates.  At the other, on the Tuesday, remands and smaller matters are taken, and there then used to be some delay.

One justice thought his neighbour would go, another thought the same of his neighbour, and the result was nobody went.  Having tacitly bound themselves to attend once a week, the justices, many of whom resided miles away, did not care formally to pledge themselves to be invariably present on a second day.  Sometimes the business on that second day was next to nothing, but occasionally serious affairs turned up, when messengers had to be despatched to gather a quorum.