be done?"

Berry shrugged his shoulders.

"If half what I've heard is true, Merry Down is as good as gone. The
fellow means to have it, and he's rich enough to buy the county itself.
Short of assassination, I don't see what anybody can do. Of course, if
you like, you can reproduce him in wax and then stick pins into the
image. But that's very old-fashioned, and renders you liable to
cremation without the option of a fine. Besides, as a magistrate, I feel
it my bounden duty to----"

"I thought witchcraft and witches were out of date," said Adèle.

"Not at all," said Berry. "Only last week we bound one over for
discussing the housing question with a wart-hog. The animal, which, till
then, had been laying steadily, became unsettled and suspicious and
finally attacked an inoffensive Stilton with every circumstance of
barbarity."

"How awful!" said Adèle. "You do see life as a magistrate, don't you?
And I suppose somebody kissed the wart-hog, and it turned into a French
count? You know, it's a shame about you."

Berry looked round.

"Mocked," he said. "And at my own table. With her small mouth crammed
with food, for which I shall be called upon to pay, she actually----"

"O-o-oh!" cried Adèle. "It wasn't. Besides, you shouldn't have asked