Captain Ryecroft has lost more than rod and line; his heart is as good
as gone too--given to Gwendoline Wynn. He now knows the name of the
yellow haired Naiad--for this, with other particulars, she imparted to
him on return up stream.
Neither has her confidence thus extended, nor the conversation leading
to it, belied the favourable impression made upon him by her appearance.
Instead, so strengthened it, that for the first time in his life he
contemplates becoming a benedict. He feels that his fate is sealed--or
no longer in his hands, but hers.
As Wingate pulls him on homeward, he draws out his cigar case, sets fire
to a fresh weed, and, while the blue smoke wreaths up round the rim of
his topee, reflects on the incidents of the day,--reviewing them in the
order of their occurrence.
Circumstances apparently accidental have been strangely in his favour.
Helped as by Heaven's own hand, working with the rudest instruments.
Through the veriest scum of humanity he has made acquaintance with one
of its fairest forms. More than mere acquaintance, he hopes; for surely
those warm words, and glances far from cold, could not be the sole
offspring of gratitude! If so, a little service on the Wye goes a long
way. Thus reflects he, in modest appreciation of himself, deeming that
he has done but little. How different the value put upon it by Gwen
Wynn!
Still he knows not this, or at least cannot be sure of it. If he were,
his thoughts would be all rose-coloured, which they are not. Some are
dark as the shadows of the April showers now and then drifting across
the sun's disc.
One that has just settled on his brow is no reflection from the
firmament above--no vague imagining--but a thing of shape and form--the
form of a man, seen at the top of the boat stair, as the ladies were
ascending, and not so far off as to have hindered him from observing the
man's face, and noting that he was young, and rather handsome. Already
the eyes of love have caught the keenness of jealousy. A gentleman
evidently on terms of intimacy with Miss Wynn. Strange, though, that
the look with which he regarded her on saluting, seemed to speak of
something amiss! What could it mean! Captain Ryecroft has asked this
question as his boat was rounding the end of the eyot, with another in
the selfsame formulary of interrogation, of which but the moment before
he was himself the subject:--"Who the deuce can _he_ be?" Out upon the
river, and drawing hard at his Regalia, he goes on:--
"Wonderfully familiar the fellow seemed! Can't be a brother? I
understood her to say she had none. Does he live at Llangorren? No.
She said there was no one there in the shape of masculine relative--only
an old aunt, and that little dark damsel, who is cousin or something of
the kind. But who the deuce is the gentleman? Might _he_ be a cousin?"
So propounding questions without being able to answer them, he at length
addresses himself to the waterman, saying:
"Jack, did you observe a gentleman at the head of the stair?"
"Only the head and shoulders o' one, captain."
"Head and shoulders; that's enough. Do you chance to know him?"
"I ain't thorough sure; but I think he be a Mr Shenstone."
"Who is Mr Shenstone?"
"The son o' Sir George."
"Sir George! What do you know of _him_?"
"Not much to speak of--only that he be a big gentleman, whose land lies
along the river, two or three miles below."
The information is but slight, and slighter the gratification it gives.
Captain Ryecroft has heard of the rich baronet whose estate adjoins that
of Llangorren, and whose title, with the property attached, will descend
to an only son. It is the _torso_ of this son he has seen above the red
sandstone rock. In truth, a formidable rival! So he reflects, smoking
away like mad.
After a time, he again observes:--"You've said you don't know the ladies
we've helped out of their little trouble?"
"Parsonally, I don't, captain. But, now as I see where they live, I
know who they be. I've heerd talk 'bout the biggest o' them--a good
deal."
The biggest of them! As if she were a salmon! In the boatman's eyes,
bulk is evidently her chief recommendation!