DEAR NUTT,--As I see you're working Spooks and Dooks at the same time, what about an article on that rum business of the Eyres of Exmoor; or as the old women call it down here, the Devil's Ear of Eyre?
But that is not the point The point is that there really is something queer about Exmoor and his family; something quite natural, I dare say, but quite abnormal.
So we got on very well together; but the third man, the old gentleman in the tight pantaloons, seemed rather distant and haughty, until I slid into the subject of the Duke of Exmoor and his ancestry.
"You don't seem," I said to the narrator, "to be very fond of the Exmoor pedigree."
"That is an extraordinary old gentleman," I said to the other two; "do you happen to know what the Exmoor family has done to him?
I reaffirmed my ignorance, and there was another silence; then the little priest said, still looking at the table, "That is the Duke of Exmoor."
Exmoor, it seems, was white as ashes, but his eyes still blazed.
But Mull swears it is the solemn fact that the lawyer, after shaking his knotted fists in the air for an instant, simply ran from the room and never reappeared in the countryside; and since then Exmoor has been feared more for a warlock than even for a landlord and a magistrate.
And I learnt from the legal records and old newspapers that there was a lawsuit threatened, and at least begun, by one Green against the Duke of Exmoor.
He really is the one and only Duke of Exmoor. What happened was this.
They like that But you must know the Exmoors would never forgive this.