The Major could not listen with patience.  “A boy of that age to repeat such blasphemous nonsense!” he exclaimed; and Robert, restraining with difficulty his sobs of terror, was dismissed to fetch the butler.

The old Ironside who now appeared would not avouch his own disbelief in the identity of Master Peregrine, being, as he said, a man who had studied his Bible, listened to godly preachers, and seen the world; but he had no hesitation in declaring that almost every other soul in the household believed in it as firmly as in the Gospel, certainly all the women, and probably all the men, nor was there any doubt that the young gentleman conducted himself more like a goblin than the son of pious Christian parents.  In effect both the clergyman and the Diplomate could not help suspecting that in other company the worthy butler’s disavowal of all share in the superstition might have been less absolute.

“After this,” said Major Oakshott with a sigh, “it seems useless to carry the inquiry farther.”

“What says my sister Oakshott?” inquired Sir Peregrine.  “She!  Poor soul, she is too feeble to be fretted,” said her husband.  “She has never been the same woman since the Fire of London, and it would be vain to vex her with questions.  She would be of one mind while I spoke to her, and another while her women were pouring their tales into her ear.  Methinks I now understand why she has always seemed to shrink from this unfortunate child, and to fear rather than love him.”

“Even so, sir,” added the tutor.  “Much is explained that I never before understood.  The question is how to deal with him under this fresh light.  I will, so please your honour, assemble the family this very night, and expound to them that such superstitions are contrary to the very word of Scripture.”

“Much good will that do,” muttered the knight.

“I should humbly suggest,” put in Dr. Woodford, “that the best hope for the poor lad would be to place him where these foolish tales were unknown, and he could start afresh on the same terms with other youths.”

“There is no school in accordance with my principles,” said the Squire gloomily.  “Godly men who hold the faith as I do are inhibited by the powers that be from teaching in schools.”

“And,” said his brother, “you hold these principles as more important than the causing your son to be bred up a human being instead of being pointed at and rendered hopeless as a demon.”

“I am bound to do so,” said the Major.

“Surely,” said Dr. Woodford, “some scholar might be found, either here or in Holland, who might share your opinions, and could receive the boy without incurring penalties for opening a school without license.”

“It is a matter for prayer and consideration,” said Major Oakshott.  “Meantime, reverend sir, I thank you most heartily for the goodness with which you have treated my untoward son, and likewise for having opened my eyes to the root of his freakishness.”