e of peacefulness that
was so lacking around house and hearth--especially hearth--Crefton came
across the old mother, sitting mumbling to herself in the seat beneath
the medlar tree. "Let un sink as swims, let un sink as swims," she
was, repeating over and over again, as a child repeats a half-learned
lesson. And now and then she would break off into a shrill laugh, with
a note of malice in it that was not pleasant to hear. Crefton was glad
when he found himself out of earshot, in the quiet and seclusion of the
deep overgrown lanes that seemed to lead away to nowhere; one, narrower
and deeper than the rest, attracted his footsteps, and he was almost
annoyed when he found that it really did act as a miniature roadway to
a human dwelling. A forlorn-looking cottage with a scrap of ill-tended
cabbage garden and a few aged apple trees stood at an angle where a
swift flowing stream widened out for a space into a decent sized pond
before hurrying away again through the willows that had checked its
course. Crefton leaned against a tree-trunk and looked across the
swirling eddies of the pond at the humble little homestead opposite
him; the only sign of life came from a small procession of
dingy-looking ducks that marched in single file down to the water's
edge. There is always something rather taking in the way a duck
changes itself in an instant from a slow, clumsy waddler of the earth
to a graceful, buoyant swimmer of the waters, and Crefton waited with a
certain arrested attention to watch the leader of the file launch
itself on to the surface of the pond. He was aware at the same time of
a curious warning instinct that something strange and unpleasant was
about to happen. The duck flung itself confidently forward into the
water, and rolled immediately under the surface. Its head appeared for
a moment and went under again, leaving a train of bubbles in its wake,
while wings and legs churned the water in a helpless swirl of flapping
and kicking. The bird was obviously drowning. Crefton thought at
first that it had caught itself in some weeds, or was being attacked
from below by a pike or water-rat. But no blood floated to the
surface, and the wildly bobbing body made the circuit of the pond
current without hindrance from any entanglement. A second duck had by
this time launched itself into the pond, and a second struggling body
rolled and twisted under the surface. There was something peculiarly
piteous in the sig