“Grant the order!” said Sir Benjamin Bullockshed; and the whole bench nodded assent. The able lawyer Dare Deville retired with a pleasant smile. He saw an agreeable prospect of plenty of grist to his mill. Sir Roger was rich, and so was Great Castleborough. He rubbed his hands not in the least like a man defeated, and thought to himself—“Let them go at it—all right.” The next day the placards on the Rockville estate were changed for others, bearing, “STOPPED BY ORDER OF SESSIONS!” and alongside of them were huge carefully painted boards, denouncing on all trespassers prosecutions according to law. The same evening came a prodigious invasion of Castleburghians, who tore down all the boards and placards, and carried them on their shoulders to Great Castleborough, singing as they went, “See the Conquering Heroes come!” They set them up in the centre of the Castleborough market-place, and burnt them along with an effigy of Roger Rockville. This was grist at once to the mill of the able lawyer Dare Deville. He looked on and rubbed his hands. Warrants were speedily issued by the baronets of Bullockshed and Tenterhook, for the apprehension of the individuals who had been seen carrying off the notice-boards, for larceny; and against a number of others for trespass, and for aiding and abetting. There was plenty of work for Dare Deville and his brethren of the robe; but it all ended, after the flying about of sundry mandamuses and assize trials, in Sir Roger finding that though Rockville was his, the roads through it were the public’s. As Sir Roger drove homewards from the assize, which finally settled the question of those foot-paths, he heard the bells in all the steeples of Great Castleborough burst forth with a grand peal of triumph. He closed the windows of his fine old carriage, and sunk into a corner: but he could not drown the intolerable sound. “But,” said he, “I’ll stop their pic-nicing. I’ll stop their fishing. I’ll have hold of them for trespassing and poaching!” There was war henceforth between Rockville and Great Castleborough. On the next Sunday there came literally thousands of the jubilant Castleburghians to Rockville. They had brought baskets and wine for dining and drinking success to all foot-paths. But in the great grove there were keepers and watchers, who warned them to keep the path, that narrow, well-worn line up the middle of the grove. “What! were they not to sit on the grass?” “No.” “What! were they not to pic-nic?” “No; not there!”