Saying this, Mr. Wallace bowed to his brother lawyer, and without further ceremony took his way back to the house. Mr. Sleech soon afterwards proceeded in the same direction, doubtful, apparently, what course to pursue. "I won't be bullied," he said to himself, "and yet they seem pretty confident. I don't quite like the look of matters." Scarcely had Mr. Sleech left the wood when another person appeared on the scene. Paul Gauntlett was well known to all the labourers around. He walked up, armed as usual with a stout cudgel. He might have been seen day after day since his return from London walking round and round the grounds, just outside, evidently considering that he was acting in some way as guardian of the place. Madam Everard had warned him that he could not legally enter it. As, however, he saw from a distance the tall boughs of the trees falling towards the ground, he could resist no longer. "You are employed on a fine work, my friends," he said, gazing round him. "What now would you say if you saw the colonel standing in the midst of you? He would be wonderfully pleased at seeing these shady trees which he loved so well cut down one after the other at the beck of a pettifogging attorney. That is what Mr. Sleech is, even though he has got into the big house here. That is what he will ever remain. But I tell you what, lads, he will not hold Stanmore long. Of that I am very certain. The captain will have his own again before many weeks are over, mark me. Now I say, I don't want to take the bread out of your mouths, but if any of you can get better work than this, I say go and take it. I shall mark every man who stays on here, and he may never expect another day's work on Stanmore as long as I live, if he lays his hand against one of these trees after I have warned him. There never was a better master than the colonel; and the captain, his nephew, is likely to be every bit as good a one. Now, boys, just take your own course, you have heard what I have got to say. What will you do? There is Farmer Giles and Farmer Jobson, and Mr. Timmins, down at the mill, and twenty others want hands. You will all get as good wages as this old skinflint can pay you, and be employed in an honest way." Paul's address had a great effect among the labourers. They consulted together for some time, and one after the other agreed that they would not again lay an axe against the root of one of the trees of Stanmore. A few held out. They had got work and did not see why some old trees should not come down at the bidding of one man as well as that of another. "Take your own way," answered Paul. "If the trees fall, some one will have to pay, and you will not forget my words." Several of the men shouldered their axes and prepared to move. "I would sooner lose a week's work than offend the captain," exclaimed one.