dulating plateau, scored across and across by the stone walls of the
north, and all dappled with the shadows of rolling leaden clouds with
silver fringes. Miles away a church spire stuck like a spike out of the
hollow, and the smoke of a village dimmed the trees behind. No nearer
habitation could I see. I have mentioned a hamlet which we passed in the
spring-cart. It lay hidden behind some hillocks to the left. My landlady
told me it was better than half a mile away, and "nothing when you get
there; no shop; no post-office; not even a public--house."

I inquired in which direction lay the hall. She pointed to the nearest
trees, a small forest of stunted oaks, which shut in the view to the
right, after quarter of a mile of a bare and rugged valley. Through this
valley twisted the beck which I had heard faintly in the night. It ran
through the oak plantation and so to the sea, some two or three miles
further on, said my landlady; but nobody would have thought it was so
near.

"T'squire was to be away to-day," observed the woman, with the broad
vowel sound which I shall not attempt to reproduce in print. "He was
going to Lancaster, I believe."

"So I understood," said I. "I didn't think of troubling him, if that's
what you mean. I'm going to take his advice and fish the beck."

And I proceeded to do so after a hearty early dinner: the keen, chill
air was doing me good already: the "perfect quiet" was finding its
way into my soul. I blessed my specialist, I blessed Squire Rattray, I
blessed the very villains who had brought us within each other's ken;
and nowhere was my thanksgiving more fervent than in the deep cleft
threaded by the beck; for here the shrewd yet gentle wind passed
completely overhead, and the silence was purged of oppression by the
ceaseless symphony of clear water running over clean stones.

But it was no day for fishing, and no place for the fly, though I went
through the form of throwing one for several hours. Here the stream
merely rinsed its bed, there it stood so still, in pools of liquid
amber, that, when the sun shone, the very pebbles showed their shadows
in the deepest places. Of course I caught nothing; but, towards the
close of the gold-brown afternoon, I made yet another new acquaintance,
in the person of a little old clergyman who attacked me pleasantly from
the rear.

"Bad day for fishing, sir," croaked the cheery voice which first
informed me of his presence. "Ah, I knew it must be a