“According to the agreement with the Government the landlord has to make good the damage to the houses and the tenant the injury to the land.” It is true--she had forgotten all about it. “Twenty-five thousand men here for four years--it will take something to put the land into cultivation.” In a halting voice she asks Corlett what he thinks it will cost, and he mentions a monstrous figure. “Three years’ rent of the farm--that’s the best I can make it.” Mona gasps and her face becomes white. “But that would leave me without a shilling,” she says. “Tut, woman! With the big rent you’ve had from the Government you must have a nice little nest-egg somewhere.” “But I haven’t. I’ve put everything into stock.” The hulking fellow slaps his leg with his riding whip and makes a long whistle. “Well, so much the better if it’s all on the land.” Then he drops from his saddle to the ground, and comes close to Mona as if to coax her. “Look here, Mona woman, no one shall say John Corlett is a hard man. Leave everything on the farm as it stands, and we’ll cry quits this very minute.” Mona looks at him in silence for a moment. Then she says, breathing rapidly: “John Corlett, do you want to turn me out of my father’s farm a beggar and a pauper?” “Chut, girl, what’s the odds? There’s somebody will be wanting you to follow him to foreign parts when he goes himself--though you might have done better at home, I’m thinking.” Mona’s breath comes hot and fast and her face grows crimson. Then she falls on the man like a fury. “Out of this, you robber, you thief, you dirt!” The big bully leaps back into his saddle. Snatching at his reins, he shouts that if she won’t listen to reason he will “put the law on her,” and not a beast shall she take off the land until his dues as incoming tenant are paid to him. “Out of it!” cries Mona, and she lifts up a stick that lies near to her. Seeing it swinging in the air and likely to fall on him, the man tugs at his reins to swirl out of reach of the blow, and the stick falls on his horse’s flank. The horse throws up her hind legs, leaps forward, and goes down the avenue at a gallop. The rider has as much as he can do to keep his seat, and the last that is seen of him (shouting something about “you and your Boche”) is of his hindmost parts bobbing up and down as his horse dashes through the gate and up the road towards home. Some of the guard who have been looking on and listening burst into roars of laughter. Mona bursts into tears and goes indoors. If her stock is to be taken, the island, as well as Knockaloe, is lost to her! Late that night Oskar comes again. His eyes are fierce and his face is twitching. “I’ve heard what happened,” he says, “and if I were a free man I should break every bone in the blackguard’s skin. But I can’t let you go on suffering like this for me. You must give me up, Mona.”