only in long thoughts and words of polite sarcasm which he knew would
not be understood. The baroness worked hard at the housekeeping,
often cooking and cleaning with her own hands, and rejoicing secretly
with her husband over the rare news that came from their daughter
in England, from their boy at the front in West Flanders. Sometimes,
when the coast was clear, husband and wife walked together under the
beech-trees and talked in low tones of the time when the ravenous
beast should no more go up on the land.

The two noble officers performed their routine duties, found such
amusement as they could in neighboring villages and towns, drank
deep at night, and taxed their ingenuity to invent small ways of
annoying their hosts, for whom they felt the contemptuous dislike
of the injurer for the injured. They were careful, however, to
keep their malice within certain bounds, for they knew that the
baron was in favor with the commandant of the district.

One morning the baron and his wife, looking from their window in
a wing of the house, saw with surprise and horror a score or more
of German soldiers assembled beside the beech-avenue, with axes
and saws, preparing to begin work.

"What are they going to do there?" cried he in dismay, and hurried
down to the dining-room, where the officers sat at breakfast, giving
orders to an attentive corporal.

"A thousand pardons, Highness," interrupted the baron; "forgive
my haste. But surely you are not going to cut down my avenue of
beeches?"