"War!" declared the Marchesa. "War--war--war! And if he's not careful, I won't confine it to the path either!" She seemed to dream of conquests, perhaps to reckon resources, whereof Mr. Stillford, her legal adviser, had taken no account. She carried the padlock down to breakfast with her; it was to her as a Fiery Cross; it summoned her and her array to battle. She exhibited it to her guests. "Now, gentlemen, I'm in your hands!" said she. "Is that man to walk over my property for his miserable bathing to-morrow?" He would have been a bold man who, at that moment, would have answered her with a "Yes." _Chapter Five_ THE BEGINNING OF WAR An enviable characteristic of Lord Lynborough's was that, when he had laid the fuse, he could wait patiently for the explosion. (That last word tends to recur in connection with him.) Provided he knew that his adventure and his joke were coming, he occupied the interval profitably--which is to say, as agreeably as he could. Having launched the padlock--his symbolical ultimatum--and asserted his right, he spent the morning in dictating to Roger Wilbraham a full, particular, and veracious account of his early differences with the Dean of Christ Church. Roger found his task entertaining, for Lynborough's mimicry of his distinguished opponent was excellent. Stabb meanwhile was among the tombs in an adjacent apartment. This studious tranquillity was disturbed by the announcement of a call from Mr. Stillford. Not without difficulty he had persuaded the Marchesa to let him reconnoiter the ground--to try, if it seemed desirable, the effect of a bit of "bluff"--at any rate to discover, if he could, something of the enemy's plan of campaign. Stillford was, in truth, not a little afraid of a lawsuit! Lynborough denied himself to no man, and received with courtesy every man who came. But his face grew grim and his manner distant when Stillford discounted the favorable effect produced by his appearance and manner--also by his name, well known in the county--by confessing that he called in the capacity of the Marchesa's solicitor. "A solicitor?" said Lynborough, slightly raising his brows. "Yes. The Marchesa does me the honor to place her confidence in me; and it occurs to me that, before this unfortunate dispute----" "Why unfortunate?" interrupted Lynborough with an air of some surprise. "Surely it is--between neighbors? The Castle and the Grange should be friends." His cunning suggestion elicited no response. "It occurred to me," he continued, somewhat less glibly, "that, before further annoyance or expense was caused, it might be well if I talked matters over with your lordship's solicitor." "Sir," said Lynborough, "saving your presence--which, I must beg you to remember, was not invited by me--I don't like solicitors. I have no solicitor. I shall never have a solicitor. You can't talk with a non-existent person."