Mr. Mannering roughly broke in upon him.

‘What was that you said about ploughing up the park?’

’We ask you to break up fifty acres of it near the Fallerton end, and perhaps some other bits elsewhere.  This first bit is so far from the house you’ll never notice it; and the land ought to do very well if it’s properly broken and trampled down.’

The Squire sat up and began to tick things off on the fingers of his left hand.

’Let me understand.  You want me to give three of my farmers notice to quit—­Gregson first of all—­for bad farming; you ask me to plough up fifty acres of my park; and you have the goodness to suggest that I should cut some of my woods.’

Sir Henry realized that possibly a strain on his temper was coming, but he felt sure he could stand it.

‘That is what we suggest—­for your own advantage and the country’s.’

‘And pray who are “we”?  I don’t yet understand that clearly.’

‘"We,"’ said Sir Henry patiently, ’are the County War Agricultural Committee, formed for the express purpose of getting more food out of the land, and so making these islands self-supporting.’

‘And if I refuse, what can you do?’

‘Well, I’m afraid,’ said Sir Henry, smiling uncomfortably, ’we can act without you.’

‘You can turn out my farmers, and plough my land, as you please?’

‘Our powers are very wide.’

’Under—­what do you call the beastly thing?—­“Dora”—­the Defence of the Realm Act?’

Sir Henry nodded.

The Squire rose and began to pace up and down, his hands under his coat-tails, his long spider legs and small feet picking their way in and out of the piles and boxes on the floor.  At last he turned impetuously.

‘Look here, Chicksands, I shall not give that man warning!’

Sir Henry surveyed the lanky figure standing opposite to him.

‘I should be very sorry, Mannering, to see you take that course,’ he said, smiling and amiable as before.  ’In some ways, of course, I am no more in love with some of the Government’s proceedings than you are.  We landlords may have to defend ourselves.  I want, if I may say so, to keep your influence intact for the things that really matter.  You and I, and all the other Brookshire landlords, may have, at some point, to act together.  But we shall resist unreasonable demands much more easily if we accept the reasonable ones.’

The Squire shook his head.  The suave tone of the speaker had clearly begun to rasp his nerves.

’No!  You and I have really nothing in common.  You may take it from me that I shall not give these men notice.  What happens then?’

‘The Government steps in,’ said Sir Henry quietly.

‘And turns them out?  Very well, let them.  And the park?’

‘We are, of course, most anxious to consult you.’

‘Excuse me, that’s nonsense!  I refuse—­that’s flat.’