THE SWIFT.
Florimel succeeded so far in reassuring her friend as to the safety
if not sanity of her groom, that she made no objection to yet another
reading from “St Ronan’s Well”--upon which occasion an incident
occurred that did far more to reassure her than all the attestations of
his mistress.
Clementina, in consenting, had proposed, it being a warm sunny
afternoon, that they should that time go down to the lake, and sit
with their work on the bank, while Malcolm read. This lake, like the
whole place, and some of the people in it, was rather strange --not
resembling any piece of water that Malcolm at least had ever seen. More
than a mile in length, but quite narrow, it lay on the sea-shore--a
lake of deep fresh water, with nothing between it and the sea but a
bank of sand, up which the great waves came rolling in south-westerly
winds, one now and then toppling over--to the disconcerting no doubt of
the pikey multitude within.
The head only of the mere came into Clementina’s property, and they sat
on the landward side of it, on a sandy bank, among the half-exposed
roots of a few ancient firs, where a little stream that fed the lake
had made a small gully, and was now trotting over a bed of pebbles
in the bottom of it. Clementina was describing to Florimel the
peculiarities of the place, how there was no outlet to the lake, how
the water went filtering through the sand into the sea, how in some
parts it was very deep, and what large pike there were in it. Malcolm
sat a little aside as usual, with his face towards the ladies, and the
book open in his hand, waiting a sign to begin, but looking at the
lake, which here was some fifty yards broad, reedy at the edge, dark
and deep in the centre. All at once he sprang to his feet, dropping the
book, ran down to the brink of the water, undoing his buckled belt and
pulling off his coat as he ran, threw himself over the bordering reeds
into the pool, and disappeared with a great plash.
Clementina gave a scream, and started up with distraction in her face:
she made no doubt that in the sudden ripeness of his insanity he had
committed suicide. But Florimel, though startled by her friend’s cry,
laughed, and crowded out assurances that Malcolm knew well enough what
he was about. It was longer, however, than she found pleasant, before
a black head appeared--yards away, for he had risen at a great slope,
swimming towards the other side. What _could_ he be after? Near the
middle he swam more softly, and almost stopped. Then first they spied a
small dark object on the surface. Almost the same moment it rose into
the air. They thought Malcolm had flung it up. Instantly they perceived
that it was a bird--a swift. Somehow it had dropped into the water, but
a lift from Malcolm’s hand had restored it to the air of its bliss.
But instead of turning and swimming back, Malcolm held on, and getting
out on the farther side, ran down the beach and rushed into the sea,
rousing once more the apprehensions of Clementina. The shore sloped
rapidly, and in a moment he was in deep water. He swam a few yards out,
swam ashore again, ran round the end of the lake, found his coat, and
got from it his pocket-handkerchief. Having therewith dried his hands
and face, he wrang out the sleeves of his shirt a little, put on his
coat, returned to his place, and said, as he took up the book and sat
down,
“I beg your pardon, my ladies; but just as I heard my Lady Clementina
say _pikes_, I saw the little swift in the water. There was no time to
lose. Swiftie had but a poor chance.”
As he spoke he proceeded to find the place in the book.
“You don’t imagine we are going to have you read in such a plight as
that!” cried Clementina.
“I will take good care, my lady. I have books of my own, and I handle
them like babies.”
“You foolish man! It is of you in your wet clothes, not of the book I
am thinking,” said Clementina indignantly.
“I’m much obliged to you, my lady, but there’s no fear of me. You saw
me wash the fresh water out. Salt water never hurts.”
“You must go and change nevertheless,” said Clementina.
Malcolm looked to his mistress. She gave him a sign to obey, and he
rose. He had taken three steps towards the house when Clementina
recalled him.
“One word, if you please,” she said. “How is it that a man who risks
his life for that of a little bird, can be so heartless to a great
noble creature like that horse of yours? I cannot understand it!”
“My lady,” returned Malcolm with a smile, “I was no more risking my
life than you would be in taking a fly out of the milk-jug. And for
your question, if your ladyship will only think, you cannot fail to
see the difference. Indeed I explained my treatment of Kelpie to your
ladyship that first morning in the park, when you so kindly rebuked me
for it, but I don’t think your ladyship listened to a word I said.”
Clementina’s face flushed, and she turned to her friend with a “Well!”
in her eyes. But Florimel kept her head bent over her embroidery; and
Malcolm, no further notice being taken of him walked away.