CHAPTER II.

Press, Volume LVII, Issue 10738, 18 August 1900, Page 5

CHAPTER 11.

"My dear James, —Fish your way up the river any day you like this week and send your baggage on in advance so that you can arrive When the weather and water will suit you.—Your affectionate Uncle, John Corvall." Such was the letter which "Jim" Oorvall. received from bis great-uncle in reply to the request for permission to fish the private water througii the park. His parents had both died before he was ten years old, and owing to some un£ortu_ite family quarrel (of which he knew nothing), he had never heen asked to visit the head of the family. Being, therefore, ignorant- of the nature, of the-estrangement, and being also a keen and first-rate angler, he wrote to his great-uncle and received this reply. Jim was a fair-haired, blue-eyed, powerful young Briton, and an expert sportsman, but a trifle careless and liappy-go-lucky, as the sequel will show. He was aware that his great-uncle had living with him a ward who was a distant cousin of his, and also that his cousin was a young lady destined to inherit the estate; but beyond these facts, which were common property, he had never o-iven either the heiress or her prospects a thought. Sport was his object, and he had a great desire to kill one of the heavy trout for which Mr Corvall's water was famous. He hunted, shot, and fished the year round, but high-class angling he held to be the finest of all sports, for in that pursuit he enjoyed nature to the full in peace and solitude, and as he slipped a private key into the park gates at seven o'clock in the mornin', T woman, of all the beauties of the creation, held no place in his thoughts. It was a glorious summer morning. Still a rook or two might be heard cawing,* happily far aloft above the rookery, now deserted except by a very late vouag bird or two, a cock pheasant crew here'and there, and the trills of thrushes rang along the stream's side from bush to bush. Jim felt the charm of solitary commune with pure nature, as he made his way through some yet uncut dewy grass. The whole of the long, still pool under the rdokery was almost entirely covered with a dense scum, formed for the most part of fallen fruit-tree - blossoms; there was scarcely a spot where a fly could be even wetted and much less was there any sign of a rising trout; so leaving the shades he moved upwards into the sunshine, in search of sharper running water. Quite half the art of the dry-fly fisher consists in finding a rising trout, and'then knowing how to approach him. Jim was no novice, but not a fish did he see till he had well nigh reached the carriage drive bridge. Then he suddenly stood still, and hastily though very quietly retreated. Just above him on a shoal of not more than a foot deep at the tail of the bridge pool lay the grandest trout he had ever seen. His heart beat fast as he estimated the weight of the fish to be between four or five pounds, perfect in condition and colouring, for in the bright sun every spot was clearly defined; and faster still beat his heart when he saw that the trout was undoubtedly feeding. What the fish was taking he could not make out. Every now and then it rose almost imperceptibly to the surface, and then quietly sucked iv some invisible trifle. There was no fly on the water, and Jim determined to offer a fullsized, spent gnat—wet and sunk. He cast well up stream, and almost held his breath as the fraud drifted down within a few inches of the trout's jaws. The fish glanced at the lure, and moved both fins and tail as if in uncertainty, but made no attempt to take it. A second cast which did not fall so softly and true as tha first was unnoticed, but the'tront remained and rose again. Then Jim lengthened bis line, and with a well-delivered under

hand cast, sent the fly Avell up into the deep shade under the bridge. Tlie fly never reached the spot where the fish had been, for Jim, intent in watching his fiv at the instant, did not miss the trout. It had dashed upwards and met the spent gnat just between sun and shade. He struck: whirr, whirr, whizz—whizz—splash "I am rightly served," exclaimed Jim in loud and angry tones. "Hers lam fast in the biggest trout in the stream and I have left my landing 'net somewhere among the long grass under the rookery where I made a cigarette and was not certain whether I was listening to nightingales or'thrushes. Goodness only knows where it is. lam the greatest idiot thot ever existed,; it is all over; with deep water below mc, a slippery bank, weeds and roots. I have ho chance." Then with a sigh of despair he played his fish mechanically. '• "Is the toothache worse and- am I dreaming of my adventures of yesterday, or do I really hear that horrible whizzing sound again?" I muianu_-ed sleepily. In another moment I was wide awake and aware that my good wife -was in trouble. I dashed off to help her. I beckoned to her-with my tail from below the arch. "This way, darling, make a. dash up under the arch through the old hurdle and bang goes-his .flimsy stuff." In her full, condition, she was already panting a little, but she obeyed rae at once ■without wasting breath on words. Alas I when within a few .inches of the. safe refuge the pressure was too great for her, and after a last struggle or two she began' to drift backwards. "Never girl," I said, encouragingly, "work quietly for a bit, and get your wind back. Take your time, and I will follow you __d watch. ' \vTnenyouyfeel/.fresh again you might try a dash oh your side through the weeds on the shallow" so as to entangle the tackle; but as a last resort pretend to be completely exhausted, and plunge suddenly downw-ai-ds among'rhe willow roots at the enemy's f «et. Then you will; be quite safe, dear." My injunctions were obeyed to the .letter., but the trick among thi? weeds failed because they were too young;, short and tender. During the next breathing-time I lay a little ©n my side under the bank opposite' the angler, and thus was able to see him. What joy! he had no landing net, and his face was as white as chalk. I speedily communicated the good news to my wife, but I was horrified to find- that slie was so much out of wind, and suffering from such < palpitation, as only to be able to reply with an intelligent and affectionate glance. Then I looked again at the opposite bank, and beheld what I had never seen before —a being that could only rival my own lovely •wife; in beauty. Standing'on the top of the bank her feet were just on a level with the head cf the angler below, who was quite unconscious oi her presence. She was'clad in a light material of the pale fresh green of the beech, her eyes were large and of her complexion had the bloom of thepaach, her glorious, gold-touched hair attracted the sun, her bright, cherry lips curved with humour as she laughed softly at the angler's dilemma;, she was tall and graceful,, and was possessed of every beauty of form and colouring which her native kind, the Garden of England, could confer npon her. She carried a large sunshade covered with black .lace and lined with crimson silk, and quickly she slid down the bank and stood btside the astonished fisherman. The critical moment had arrived, and my wife, with hardly a protest, allowed herself to be drawn in close to the bank. She gave mc a long lock full of love and meaning, but there was a dimness in her eyes which I did not like. Then suddenly there came a dark cloud and a vivid red flash between us, and I never saw my dear wife again. She waa in the sunshade. Reader, if you have ever been in a boat nearly full to the gunwale you may bs .able to form some idea of the difficulty in keeping a swinging vessel—such as a lady's; sunshade steady with a great fish floundering in it. In ascending the precipitous bank, although slowly and steadily, with such a wwght it was necessary to get rid of some of the water, and the owner of the sunshade unavoidably gave the angler a complete shower-bath; but she succeeded in taking the trout to a place of safety, and; then, for the first time across the glittering fish, she and Jim looked upon each other. It is needless to add that the human heroine of this story was the old Squire's ward, and that, after such an introduction, she and Jim very properly fell in love with each otiher, and in due time weremarried.

I have lost my lovely, faithful wife, who gave her life to serve mc, and for weeks I have crouched beneath the broken hurdle without touching food. The last suffering look of my poor darling haunt 3 mc. lam lean, decrepit and miserable, and my great ugly head and long teeth look more like those of a pike than a trout. I have not been caught, but that is but a small consolation, for my wife was.much more fit to rule the river than L and I would she were here now instead of ie. Life is over and I have no hope; death or tlie Rookery pool are the only alternatives remaining. Even young trout are becoming flippant and impertinent in their manners, and last night a large eel dared to inspect mc closely. 1 can no longer hold my own in strong water; I will slide on my side over the weedy shallowbelow the bridge and let the current carry mc to the Rookery pool. How I wish now that I had followed my wife's advice, and that we had been making the journey together. Oh, horrors! I see swarm's of rats, with vicious, hungry eyes and long white teeth, skipping along the bank and watching mc, and countless eels among the weed- have begun to gnaw at my helpless body, I——

Since the above was written, as I learn this Christmas-tide, the broken hurdle under the bridge has been washed away, and the old trout, so wefl. known for many years, liadnot been observed until yesterday, when the keeper looking over one of the lower shallows found him stark and stiff amongst the sedges with gruesome evidence that his end was very probably as indicated.