"'Twarn't the wars, 'twarn't the wars," broke in the old man, eagerly. "Squire was as big a man when the wars was done as when they begun--only older--older, you understand.  And no one 'ud ha' laid a finger on ought belonging to him, not for gold untold; they had that respect for him, and they bore fear on him too.  A very plain-speaking gentleman he was when he was pleased.  But no--'twarn't the wars.  He was a great man, and a rich man to the day of his death.  He was took sudden, you understand--in some sort of fit like; and young master--that's Passon Perrient as they calls him, our young missis' father--and missis, they was away at Ipswich, and come back all of a scuffle and finds him dead; and by all I hear, not the value of a penny-piece in the house in money--plenty of silver and pewter you understand, but no money whatsumever.  And when all come to be settled, why then Passon Perrient he was on the windy side of the hedge, and he just sold the horses and cows and the old house and went across seas, and our young missis, she come to her aunt, old Madam Isham, and Molly, that's my wife, and I, we come along on her; but 'twas a change--that it was."