n foot-bridge across the stream,
Robert held on his way, making for the Lodge, while Lionel, well
content and asking no questions, followed the young lady. She led the
way across the bridge and along the opposite bank until they reached the
Geinig Pool, where they scrambled down to the side of the river just
above the falls. Here she showed him how to step from one boulder to
another, until he found himself on a huge gray rock right in the middle;
and forthwith she directed him to crawl out to the edge of the rock, and
just put his head over, and see what he could see. As for crawling, he
considered himself quite an adept at that now; in an instant he was down
on hands and knees, making his way out to the end of the rock. And
certainly what he beheld when he cautiously peered over the edge was
worth all the trouble. Here, in an almost circular pool, apparently of
great depth, the surface of the water was as smooth as glass; for the
bulk of the stream tumbled in and tumbled out again along the southern
side, leaving this dark hole in an eddy; and the sunlight, striking down
into the translucent depths, revealed to him certain slowly moving forms
which he recognized at once as salmon. They were not like salmon in
color, to be sure; through the dun water their purplish-blue backs
showed a dull olive-green; but salmon they undoubtedly were, and of a
good size, too. Of course he was immensely excited by such a novel
sight. With intensest curiosity he watched them making their slow
circles of the pool, exactly like gold-fish in a globe. They seemed to
be about four or five feet under the surface. Was it not possible to
snatch at one of them with a long gaff? Or was it not possible, on the
other hand, to tempt one of them with a fly!

He slowly withdrew his head.

"That is most extraordinary," he called to his companion, who was
standing a few yards farther back. "Miss Honnor, won't you put a fly
over them?"

"What is the use," said she. "They will look at it, but they won't take
it; and I don't think it is well they should know too much about the
patterns that Mr. Watson dresses. They know quite enough already. Some
of the old hands, I do believe, are familiar with every fly made in
Inverness."

"Won't you try?" he pleaded.

"Well, if you would like to see them look at a fly, I'll put it over
them," she said, good-naturedly, "but, you know, it is most
demoralizing."

So she, also, had to creep out to the edge of the r