“Perhaps not; but it is not long that you will remain here.  I have seen a good deal in my time; but I never saw a gentleman from the old country make a good Canadian farmer.  The work is rough and hard, and they get out of humour with it, and leave it to their hired helps, and then all goes wrong.  They are cheated on all sides, and in despair take to the whiskey bottle, and that fixes them.  I tell you what it is, mister—­I give you just three years to spend your money and ruin yourself; and then you will become a confirmed drunkard, like the rest.”

The first part of her prophecy was only too true.  Thank God! the last has never been fulfilled, and never can be.

Perceiving that the old woman was not a little elated with her bargain, Mr. —–­ urged upon her the propriety of barring the dower.  At first, she was outrageous, and very abusive, and rejected all his proposals with contempt; vowing that she would meet him in a certain place below, before she would sign away her right to the property.

“Listen to reason, Mrs. R—–­,” said the land speculator.  “If you will sign the papers before the proper authorities, the next time your son drives you to C—–­, I will give you a silk gown.”

“Pshaw!  Buy a shroud for yourself; you will need it before I want a silk gown,” was the ungracious reply.

“Consider woman; a black silk of the best quality.”

“To mourn in for my sins, or for the loss of the farm?”

“Twelve yards,” continued Mr. —–­, without noticing her rejoinder, “at a dollar a yard.  Think what a nice church-going gown it will make.”

“To the devil with you!  I never go to church.”

“I thought as much,” said Mr. —–­, winking to us.  “Well, my dear madam, what will satisfy you?”

“I’ll do it for twenty dollars,” returned the old woman, rocking herself to and fro in her chair; her eyes twinkling, and her hands moving convulsively, as if she already grasped the money so dear to her soul.

“Agreed,” said the land speculator.  “When will you be in town?”

“On Tuesday, if I be alive.  But, remember, I’ll not sign till I have my hand on the money.”

“Never fear,” said Mr. —–­, as we quitted the house; then, turning to me, he added, with a peculiar smile,” That’s a devilish smart woman.  She would have made a clever lawyer.”

Monday came, and with it all the bustle of moving, and, as is generally the case on such occasions, it turned out a very wet day.  I left Old Satan’s hut without regret, glad, at any rate, to be in a place of my own, however humble.  Our new habitation, though small, had a decided advantage over the one we were leaving.  It stood on a gentle slope; and a narrow but lovely stream, full of pretty speckled trout, ran murmuring under the little window; the house, also, was surrounded by fine fruit trees.