inently one of those moments which bring out the qualities
of Norman blood. And the first thing he did was to look at the
barometer. It was going slowly down. After a month of first-class
weather it would not do that without some sinister intention. An old
glass, he believed in it implicitly. He tapped, and it sank further. He
stood there frowning. Should he consult his wife? General friendliness
said: Yes! A Norman instinct of chivalry, and perhaps the deeper Norman
instinct, that, when it came to the point, women were too violent, said,
No! He went upstairs three at a time, and came down two. And all
through dinner he sat thinking it over, and talking as if nothing had
happened; so that he hardly spoke. Three-quarters of the hay at stake,
if it rained soon! A big loss to the farmers, a further reduction in
rents already far too low. Should he grin and bear it, and by doing
nothing show these fellows that he could afford to despise their cowardly
device? For it WAS cowardly to let his grass get ripe and play it this
low trick! But if he left things unfought this time, they would try it
on again with the corn--not that there was much of that on the estate of
a man who only believed in corn as a policy.

Should he make the farmers sack the lot and get in other labor? But
where? Agricultural laborers were made, not born. And it took a deuce
of a lot of making, at that! Should he suspend wages till they withdrew
their demand? That might do--but he would still lose the hay. The hay!
After all, anybody, pretty well, could make hay; it was the least skilled
of all farm work, so long as the farmers were there to drive the machines
and direct. Why not act vigorously? And his jaws set so suddenly on a
piece of salmon that he bit his tongue. The action served to harden a
growing purpose. So do small events influence great! Suspend those
fellows' wages, get down strike-breakers, save the hay! And if there
were a row--well, let there be a row! The constabulary would have to
act. It was characteristic of his really Norman spirit that the notion
of agreeing to the demand, or even considering whether it were just,
never once came into his mind. He was one of those, comprising nowadays
nearly all his class, together with their press, who habitually referred
to his country as a democratic power, a champion of democracy--but did
not at present suspect the meaning of the word; nor, to say truth, was it
likely t