"Because upon that day I propose to dispense justice in my capacity of a Justice of the Peace. I shall discriminate between neither rich nor poor. Beggars and billionaires shall get it equally in the neck.

Innocent and guilty alike----"

"That'll do," said Daphne. "What about Thursday?"

"Thursday's clear. One moment, though. I had an idea there was something on that day." For a second he drummed on the table, clearly cudgelling his brains. Suddenly, "I knew it," he cried. "That's the day of the sale. You know. Merry Down. I don't know what's the matter with my memory. I've got some rotten news."

"What?"

Daphne, Jill, Jonah and I fired the question simultaneously.

"A terrible fellow's after it. One Dunkelsbaum. Origin doubtful--very.

Last known address, Argentina. Naturalized in July, 1914. Strictly neutral during the War, but managed to net over a million out of cotton, which he sold to the Central Powers _at a lower price than Great Britain offered_ before we tightened the blockade. Never interned, of course.

Well, he tried to buy Merry Down by private treaty, but Sir Anthony wouldn't sell to him. They say the sweep's crazy about the place and that he means to have it at any price. Jolly, isn't it?"

There was a painful silence.

Merry Down was the nearest estate to White Ladies, and was almost as precious to us as our own home. For over two centuries a Bagot had reigned uninterruptedly over the rose-red mansion and the spreading park, the brown water and the waving woods--a kingdom of which we had been free since childhood. Never an aged tree blew down but we were told of it, and now--the greatest of them all was falling, the house of Bagot itself.

One of the old school, Sir Anthony had stood his ground up to the last.

The War had cost him dear. His only son was killed in the first months.

His only grandson fell in the battles of the Somme. His substance, never fat, had shrunk to a mere shadow of its former self. The stout old heart fought the unequal fight month after month. Stables were emptied, rooms were shut up, thing after thing was sold. It remained for a defaulting solicitor to administer the _coup de grace_....

On the twelfth day of August, precisely at half-past two, Merry Down was to be sold by auction at _The Fountain Inn_, Brooch.

Berry's news took our breath away.

"D'you mean to say that this is what I fought for?" said I. "For this brute's peaceful possession of Merry Down?"

"Apparently," said my brother-in-law. "More. It's what Derry Bagot and his boy died for, if you happen to be looking at it that way."

"It'll break Sir Anthony's heart," said Daphne.

"But I don't understand," said Adele. "How--why is it allowed?"

"I must have notice," said Berry, "of that question."

"Have you ever heard," said Jonah, "of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Alien Enemies?"

Adele shook her head.

"I think you must have," said Jonah. "Some people call it the British Nation. It's been going for years."

"That's right," said I. "And its motto is 'Charity begins at Home.'

There's really nothing more to be said."

"I could cry," announced Jill, in a voice that fully confirmed her statement. "It's just piteous. What would poor Derry say? Can't anything be done?"

Berry shrugged his shoulders.

"If half what I've heard is true, Merry Down is as good as gone. The fellow means to have it, and he's rich enough to buy the county itself.

Short of a.s.sa.s.sination, I don't see what anybody can do. Of course, if you like, you can reproduce him in wax and then stick pins into the image. But that's very old-fashioned, and renders you liable to cremation without the option of a fine. Besides, as a magistrate, I feel it my bounden duty to----"

"I thought witchcraft and witches were out of date," said Adele.

"Not at all," said Berry. "Only last week we bound one over for discussing the housing question with a wart-hog. The animal, which, till then, had been laying steadily, became unsettled and suspicious and finally attacked an inoffensive Stilton with every circ.u.mstance of barbarity."

"How awful!" said Adele. "You do see life as a magistrate, don't you?

And I suppose somebody kissed the wart-hog, and it turned into a French count? You know, it's a shame about you."

Berry looked round.

"Mocked," he said. "And at my own table. With her small mouth crammed with food, for which I shall be called upon to pay, she actually----"

"O-o-oh!" cried Adele. "It wasn't. Besides, you shouldn't have asked me."

"I can only say," said Berry, "that I am surprised and pained. From the bosom of my family I, as the head, naturally expect nothing but the foulest scurrility and derision. But when a comparative stranger, whom, with characteristic generosity, I have made free of my heart, seizes a moment which should have been devoted to the mastication of one of my peaches to vilify her host, then indeed I feel almost uns.e.xed--I mean unmanned. Are my veins standing out like cords?"

"Only on your nose," said I. "All gnarled, that is."

"There you are," said Berry. "The slow belly reviles the sage. The----"

Scandalized cries from Daphne and Jill interrupted him.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," said his wife, pushing back her chair. "And now let's all have coffee on the terrace. That is, unless you three want to stay."

Jonah, Berry and I shook our heads, and she took Adele's arm and led the way out of the room....

It was a wonderful night.

While Nature slept, Magic, sceptred with a wand, sat on her throne.

The sky was rich black velvet, p.r.i.c.ked at a million points, from every one of which issued a cold white brilliance, just luminous enough to show its whereness, sharp and clear-cut. No slightest breath of wind ruffled the shadows of the sleeping trees. With one intent, Night and the countryside had filled the cup of silence so that it brimmed--a feat that neither cellarer can do alone. The faint sweet scent of honeysuckle stole on its errant way, 'such stuff as dreams are made on,' so that the silken fabric of the air took on a tint of daintiness so rare, fleeting, and exquisite as made your fancy riot, conjuring mirages of smooth enchantment, gardens that hung luxuriant beneath a languorous moon, the plash of water and the soft sob of flutes....

For a long moment all the world was fairy. Then, with a wild scrabble of claws upon stone, a small white shape shot from beneath my chair, took the broad steps at a bound and vanished into the darkness. The welter of barks and growls and grunts of expended energy, rising a moment later from the midst of the great lawn, suggested that a cat had retired to the convenient shelter of the mulberry tree.

The sudden eruption startled us all, and Berry dwelt with some asperity upon the danger of distracting the digestive organs while at work.

Menacingly I demanded the terrier's immediate return. Upon the third time of asking the uproar ceased, and a few seconds later n.o.bby came padding out of the gloom with the cheerful demeanour of the labourer who has done well and shown himself worthy of his hire. Wise in his generation, he had learned that it is a hard heart which the pleasurable, if mistaken, glow of faithful service will not disarm.

Sternly I set the miscreant upon my knee. For a moment we eyed one another with mutual mistrust and understanding. Then he thrust up a wet nose and licked my face....

For a minute or two there was no noise save the occasional c.h.i.n.k of a coffee-cup against its saucer. Then--

"Since you ask me," said Berry, "my horoscope is of peculiar interest."

"What's a horoscope?" said Jill.

"A cross between a birth certificate and a conduct sheet," said I, nodding at Berry. "His is a wonder. You can get a copy of it for three and sixpence at Scotland Yard."

"I was born," said my brother-in-law, "when Ura.n.u.s was in conjunction, Saturn in opposition, and the Conservatives in power. Venus was all gibbous, the Zodiac was in its zenith, and the zenith was in Charles's Wain, commonly called The Cart. My sign was Oleaqua--The Man with the Watering Pot. When I add that a thunderstorm was raging, and that my father had bet five pounds I should be a girl, and had decided to call me 'Hosannah,' you will appreciate that it is no ordinary being who is addressing you. A singularly beautiful infant, it was at once obvious that I was born to rule. Several people said it was inevitable, among them an organ-grinder, who was ordered out of the grounds, to which during the excitement he had gained access. He didn't put it that way, but he explained at the police court that that was what he had meant."