hat are those men doing, Sir Everard Dominey?" she demanded. "What is
your will with the wood?"

"I am carrying out a determination I came to in the winter," Dominey
replied. "Those men are going to cut and hew their way from one end of
the Black Wood to the other, until not a tree or a bush remains upright.
As they cut, they burn. Afterwards, I shall have it drained. We may live
to see a field of corn there, Mrs. Unthank."

"You will dare to do this?" she asked hoarsely.

"Will you dare to tell me why I should not, Mrs. Unthank?"

She relapsed into silence, and Dominey passed on. But that night, as
Rosamund and he were lingering over their dessert, enjoying the strange
quiet and the wonderful breeze which crept in at the open window,
Parkins announced a visitor.

"Mrs. Unthank is in the library, sir," he announced. "She would be glad
if you could spare her five minutes."

Rosamund shivered slightly, but nodded as Dominey glanced towards her
enquiringly.

"Don't let me see her, please," she begged. "You must go, of
course.--Everard!"

"Yes, dear?"

"I know what you are doing out there, although you have never said a
word to me about it," she continued, with an odd little note of passion
in her tone. "Don't let her persuade you to stop. Let them cut and burn
and hew till there isn't room for a mouse to hide. You promise?"

"I promise," he answered.

Mrs. Unthank was making every effort to keep under control her fierce
discomposure. She rose as Dominey entered the room and dropped an
old-fashioned curtsey.

"Well, Mrs. Unthank," he enquired, "what can I do for you?"

"It's about the wood again, sir," she confessed. "I can't bear it. All
night long I seem to hear those axes, and the calling of the men."

"What is your objection, Mrs. Unthank, to the destruction of the Black
Wood?" Dominey asked bluntly. "It is nothing more nor less than a
noisome pest-hole. Its very presence there, after all that she has
suffered, is a menace to Lady Dominey's nerves. I am determined to sweep
it from the face of the earth."

The forced respect was already beginning to disappear from her manner.

"There's evil will come to you if you do, Sir Everard," she declared
doggedly.

"Plenty of evil has come to me from that wood as it is," he reminded
her.

"You mean to disturb the spirit of him whose body you threw there?" she
persisted.

Dominey looked at her calmly. Some sort of evil seemed to have lit in
her face. Her l