shops, and a slight curvature of
the spine; but his eyes were singularly, audaciously bright, and all
his movements alert and decided.

'It's not often one sees such a typical bit of feudalism as this,'
he said, without the smallest embarrassment, pointing to the old
men, the gates, the hurdles, which Gregson was now placing in
position, and finally the Squire himself. 'I wouldn't have missed it
for worlds. It's as good as a play. You're fighting the County
Agricultural War Committee, I understand from these old fellows,
because they want a bit of your park to grow more food?'

'Well, sir, and how does it matter to you?'

'Oh, it matters a great deal,' said the other, smiling. 'I want to
be able to tell my grandchildren--when I get 'em--that I once saw
this kind of thing. They'll never believe me. For in their day, you
see, there'll be no squires, and no parks. The land 'll be the
people's, and all this kind of thing--_your_ gates, _your_ servants,
_your_ fine house, _your_ game-coverts, and all the rest of it--will
be like a bit of history out of Noah's Ark.'

The Squire looked at him attentively.

'You're a queer kind of chap,' he said, half contemptuously. 'I
suppose you're one of those revolutionary fellows the papers talk
about?'

'That's it. Only there are a good many of us. When the time comes,'
he nodded pleasantly, 'we shall know how to deal with you.'

'It'll take a good deal longer than you think,' said the Squire
coolly; 'unless indeed you borrow the chap from Russia who's
invented the machine for cutting off five hundred heads at once, by
electricity. That might hasten matters a little!'

He had by now entirely recovered his chaffing, reckless temper, and
was half enjoying the encounter.

'Oh, not so long,' said the other. 'You're just passing a Franchise
Bill that will astonish you when you see the results! You perhaps
may just live it out--yes, you may die peaceably in that house
yonder. But your son, if you have one--that'll be another pair of
boots!'

'You and your pals would be much better employed in stopping this
accursed war than in talking revolutionary drivel like that,' said
the Squire, with energy.

'Oh ho! so you want to stop the war?' said the other, lifting his
eyebrows. 'I should like to know why.'

The Squire went off at once into one of his usual tirades as to
'slavery' and 'liberty.' 'You're made to work, or fight!
willy-nilly. That man's turned out of his farm--willy-nil