"Have your way, in God's name, but I wish not to see what will come of it! All's ready, Master Secretary." Very slowly that worthy stooped down and examined the ground, narrowly and quite at his leisure.

"I like it not, Master Rolfe," he declared at length.

"Here is a molehill, and there a fairy ring." "I see neither," said Rolfe.

"It looks as smooth as a table.

But we can easily shift under the cedars where there is no grass." "Here's a projecting root," announced the Secretary, when the new ground had been reached.
Rolfe shrugged his shoulders, but we moved again.
"The light comes jaggedly through the branches," objected my lord's second.