“What!” cried the Doctor, turning in the direction of the clump. “Oh no; it must be a mistake.”
Chod! A tremendous chop.
“By Gladstone!” he roared; and, thrusting his book into his pocket, he ran down the lawn, and, leaping the hedge, passed through to the open, furzy piece of land, where, full in view now, two men were plying their woodmen’s axes rapidly, and making the white chips fly as a ghastly notch began to appear in the side of one of the outer trees.
“Hi! what are you doing?” roared the Doctor, just as Veronica reached the bottom and looked over.
The two men stopped, and rested the heads of their axes on the ground as they grinned.
“Cuttin’ down the trees, sir,” said one of the men.
“What! By whose orders?”
“Lordship’s, sir. Sent us up, and he’s comin’ hisself soon.”
“Do you mean to say that his lordship gave orders for this beautiful clump of trees to be cut down?”
“Yes, sir.”