reen leaves and gloom, every orchard
being an improvised wilderness, which was allowed to bear or be barren
according to its will.

There was always so much to do. Trout to hunt up the little moorland
streams; loaches to impale among the stones of the swift torrents; rides
over the long undulating stretches of the moor, from far inland to where
it ended abruptly in steep cliffs by the sea.

And so life glided on at Manor and Hall. The king and country were not
mentioned; Colonel and Mistress Forrester supped at the Hall, and little
Lil listened to the sweet old-fashioned ballads the visitor sang. Then
the Scarletts spent pleasant evenings at the Manor, and the two fathers
discussed the future of their sons, while Dame Markham and Mistress
Forrester seemed to be like sisters.

But all the while the storm-clouds were gathering, and a distant
muttering of thunder told that the tempest threatened to break over the
pleasant west-country land.

"There's going to be a big change o' some kind, Master Scarlett," said
Nat, the gardener; "and if there is, it won't be any too soon, for it
will put my brother Samson in his proper place, and keep him there."

"Yes, Master Fred, I went and had a mug o' cider down in the village
last night, poor winegar wee sort o' stuff--three apples to a bucket o'
water--such as my brother Nat makes up at the Hall; and there they all
were talking about it. People all taking sides all over England.
Some's Cavaliers and some's Roundheads, so they say, and one party's for
the king, and the other isn't. Precious awful, aren't it?"

"Perhaps it's only talk, Samson?"

"No, Master Fred, sir, I don't think it's all talk; but there is a deal
o' talk."

"Ah, well, it's nothing to do with us, Samson. Let them quarrel. We're
too busy out here to bother about their quarrels."

"Well, I dunno, sir. I'm not a quarrelsome chap, but I heard things as
my brother Nat has said quite bad enough to make me want to go again
him, for we two never did agree; and when it comes to your own brother
telling downright out-and-out lies about the Manor vegetables and fruit,
I think it's time to speak, don't you?"

"Oh, I wish you and Nat would meet some day, and shake hands, or else
fight it out and have done with it; brothers oughtn't to quarrel."

"I dunno, Master Fred, I dunno."

"Ah, well, I think all quarrels are a bother, whether they're big ones
or whether they're little ones. They say the king and Par