Sparrows Part 54

"How should I know?"

"He's a fool if he isn't."

"What makes you think he is?"

"I'd only an idea. Are you coming to Broughton?"

"I'll compromise. I'll come as far as your punt."

"Spoken like a good little Mavis."

They followed the course of the river. The stream's windings were so vigorous that, when they had walked for some way, they had made small progress in the direction in which Perigal was going.

Mavis was strangely happy. With the exception of her brief acquaintance with Windebank, she had never before enjoyed the society of a man, who was a gentleman, on equal terms. And Windebank was coming home unharmed from the operations in which he had won distinction; she had read of his brave doings from time to time in the papers: she rejoiced to learn that he had not forgotten her.

"Thinking of Windebank?" asked Perigal, noticing her silence.

"Yes."

"Lucky chap! But he's an awfully good sort, straight-forward and all that."

Mavis again a.s.sented.

"A bit obvious, though."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Eh! Oh, well, you always know what his opinions are going to be on any given subject."

"I think he's delightful."

"So do I," a.s.sented Perigal, to add, as a qualifying afterthought, "A bit tiring to live with."

"I'm sorry, but I can't speak from experience," retorted Mavis, who disliked Perigal to criticise her friend.

They had now reached the spot where the punt was moored. It was a frail craft; the bows seemed disposed to let in water.

"Is it goodbye?" asked Perigal.

"Of course," replied Mavis irresolutely.

"Then it isn't good-bye," smiled Perigal.

"Why?"

"Because you're going to do what I wish."

Mavis was sure that she was going to do nothing of the kind, but as Perigal looked at her and smiled she became conscious of a weakening in her resolution: it was as if he had fascinated her; as if, for his present purpose, she were helpless in his hands. Consequently, she said:

"To disappoint you, I'll come as far as the other side of the river."

"What did I tell you? But it's only fair to let you know the river runs a bit just here, and it's too deep to pole, so you have to hit the opposite bank when you can."

"Is there any danger?"

"Nothing to speak of."

"I'd love to cross."

"Jump in, then."

"You don't mind if I leave you on the other side?"

"Yes, I do. You hang on to Jill."

Mavis enticed Jill into the punt, where the dog sat in the stern in her usual self-possessed manner. Perigal struggled with the rope by which the punt was moored to the stump of a tree. Very soon, they were all adrift on the stream. They made little progress at first, merely sc.r.a.ping along the overhanging branches of pollard willows; now and again, the punt would disturb long-forgotten night lines, which, more often than not, had hooked eels that had been dead for many days. Mavis began to wonder if they would ever get across.

"Stand by!" cried Perigal suddenly, at which Mavis gripped both sides of the punt.

It was well she did so, for the next moment the punt swerved violently, to blunder quickly down stream as it felt the strength of the current.

"Are you frightened?" asked Perigal.

"Not a bit."

"Hold tight to the bank if your end strikes first."

"Right you are."

Perigal did his best to steer the punt, but without much success.

Presently, the bows. .h.i.t the side, at which Perigal clutched at the growth on the bank.

"Step ash.o.r.e quickly," he cried. "It's beginning to let in water."

"How exciting!" remarked Mavis, as she stepped on to the bank.

"Just wait till I tie her up."

"Where's Jill?" asked Mavis suddenly.

"Isn't she with you?"

"See if she's in the river."

"If she is, the punt striking the bank must have knocked her overboard."

They looked, but no sign could be seen of the dog. Mavis called her name loudly, frantically, but no Jill appeared.