The Castleburghians felt a sudden damp on their spirits. But the river-bank! The cry was “to the river-bank! There they _would_ pic-nic!” The crowd rushed away down the wood; but there they found a whole regiment of watchers, who pointed again to the narrow line of foot-path, and told them not to trespass beyond it. But the islands! They went over to the islands. There, too, were Sir Roger’s forces, who warned them back. There was no road there—all found there would be trespassers, and be duly punished. The Castleburghians discovered that their triumph was not quite so complete as they had flattered themselves. The foot-paths were theirs, but that was all. Their ancient licence was at an end. If they came there, there was no more fishing; if they came in crowds, there was no more pic-nicing; if they walked through the woods in numbers, they must keep to Indian file, or they were summoned before the county magistrates for trespass and were soundly fined; and not even the able Dare Deville would undertake to defend them. The Castleburghians were chop-fallen, but they were angry and dogged; and they thronged up to the village, and the front of the hall. They filled the little inn in the hamlet—they went by scores, and roving all over the churchyard, read epitaphs— “That teach the rustic moralists to die,” but don’t teach them to give up their old indulgences very good-humouredly. They went and sat in a row on the old churchyard-wall, opposite to the very windows of the irate Sir Roger. They felt themselves beaten, and Sir Roger felt himself beaten. True, he could coerce them to the foot-path—but, then, they had the foot-paths: yet, on the other hand, the pic-nicing, and the fishing, and the islands! The Castleburghians were full of sullen wrath, and Sir Roger was—oh, most expressive old Saxon phrase—HAIRSORE! Yes, he was one universal wound of vexation and jealousy of his rights. Every hair in his body was like a pin sticking in him. Come within a dozen yards of him; nay, at the most, blow on him, and he was excruciated—you rubbed his sensitive hairs at a furlong’s distance.