"That's the style. Hold her tight, Monnick.--Now, auntie, you first.
Steady; that's the way. You won't swamp her."
"But it gives way so, James, my dear," said Aunt Sophia nervously.
"There you are. Sit down at once. Never stand up in a boat.--Is the
cushion all right? That's the way.--Now, Naomi.--Hand her in, Jack.--
Come along, Kitty."
Lady Scarlett gave her hand to her husband as soon as Naomi Raleigh was
in, and stepped lightly from the gunwale to one thwart, and then took
her place beside Aunt Sophia, Naomi being on the other.
"Arthur, old fellow, you'd better sit behind them and ship the rudder.
Shorten the lines, and you can steer.--Ready, Jack?" he said as Prayle
stepped into the boat and sat down on a thwart behind the ladies.
"Oh!" cried Aunt Sophia with a little scream; "take him out; he's too
heavy. He'll sink the boat."
"Ha-ha-ha!" laughed the doctor.
"It's all right, auntie, I tell you," cried Scarlett, making the boat
dance up and down as he stepped in, and, stripping off his flannel
jacket, rolled up his sleeves over his arms.
The doctor stepped in and imitated his friend, both standing up, the
muscular specimens of humanity, though wonderfully unlike in aspect.
"Now, you told me it was dangerous to stand up in a boat, James," cried
Aunt Sophia. "Pray, pray, take care. And look, look--the boat has
broken loose!" For the gardener had dropped the chain into the
forepart, and it was drifting slowly with the stream.
"All, so she has," cried Scarlett merrily; "and if we don't stop her,
she'll take us right to London before we know where we are."
"But do, pray, sit down, my dear."
"All right, auntie," said Scarlett, dropping into his place, the doctor
following suit.
"Oh, oh!" cried Aunt Sophia, catching tightly hold of her companions on
each side; "the boat's going over."
"No, no, aunt, dear," said Lady Scarlett; "it is quite safe."
"But why did it rock?" cried the old lady tremulously. "And look, look;
there are only two of them there, and we are four at this end! We shall
sink it, I'm sure."
"Now, auntie, it's too bad of you to set up for a stout old lady, when
you are as light as a cork," cried Scarlett, dropping his oar with a
splash.--"Ready, Jack?"
"Ready, ay, ready," said the doctor, following suit; but his oar only
swept the sedge.
"Gently," said Scarlett; "don't break the oar.--That's better; now you
have it," he said, as the head of the gig turned more and more, the
doctor's oar took a good hold of the water; and in a few moments they
were well out from the shore, the steady vigorous strokes sending them
past the sloping lawn of the Rosery, which looked its best from the
river.
"There, aunt, see how steadily and well the boat goes," said Lady
Scarlett.
"Yes, my dear, but it doesn't seem at all safe."
"Place looks pretty from the water, doesn't it, Arthur?" shouted
Scarlett.
"Delightful. A most charming home--charming, charming," said Prayle,
lowering his voice with each word, till it was heard as in a whisper by
those on the seat in front.
"Don't feel afraid now, do you, auntie?" cried Scarlett to Aunt Sophia.
"N-not quite so much, my dear. But won't you make yourself very hot and
tired?"
"Do him good, ma'am," said the doctor; "and me too.--Gently, old fellow,
or you'll pull her head round. I'm not in your trim."
Scarlett laughed, and pulled a little less vigorously, so that they rode
on and on between the lovely banks, passing villa after villa, with its
boat-house, lawn, and trimly kept garden. Then came a patch of trees
laving their drooping branches in the stream; then a sweep of wood,
climbing higher and higher into the background on one hand; while on the
other the hills receded, leaving a lawn-like stretch of meadow-land,
rich in the summer wild-flowers, and whose river-edge was dense with
flag and sedge and willow-herb of lilac pink. The marsh-marigold shone
golden, and the water-plantains spread their candelabra here and there.
Great patches of tansy displayed their beautifully cut foliage; while in
sheltered pools, the yellow water-lilies sent up their leaves to float
upon the calm surface, with here and there a round green hall in every
grade of effort to escape from the tightening scales to form a golden
chalice on the silvery stream.
By degrees the beauty of the scene lulled Aunt Sophia's fears to rest,
and she found sufficient faith in the safety of the boat to loosen her
clutch upon the ladies on either side, to admire some rustic cottage, or
the sweep of many-tinted verdure, drooping to the water's edge; while
here and there, at a word from Scarlett, the rowers let the boat go
forward by its own impetus, slowly and more slowly, against the stream,
so that its occupants could gaze upon some lovely reach. Then as they
sat in silence, watching the beauty spread around, the boat grew
stationary, hung for a moment on the balance, and began drifting back,
gliding with increasing pace, till the oars were clipped again.
"The evening is so lovely," said Scarlett, breaking a long silence,
"that I think we might go through the lock."
"Right," cried the doctor. "I am just warming to my work."
"I think it would be delightful," said Lady Scarlett.
"Oh, yes," said Naomi. "Those islands are so beautiful."
"I don't think any part could be more beautiful than where we are," said
Aunt Sophia, rather shortly.
"Oh, yes, it is, aunt, dear," said Scarlett. "There you trust to me."
"Well, it seems I must, for we women are very helpless here."
"Oh, you may trust us, aunt. We won't take you into any danger."
As they were speaking the boat was rowed round a sharp curve to where
the river on each side was embowered in trees, and stretching apparently
like a bridge from side to side was one of the many weirs that cross the
stream; while from between its piles, in graceful curves a row of little
waterfalls flowed down, each arc of water glistening golden and
many-tinted in the evening sun.
"There!" cried Scarlett.--"Easy, Jack.--What do you think of that, aunt,
for a view?"
"Yes," said the old lady thoughtfully; "it is very sweet."
"A very poet's dream," said Prayle softly, as he rested his elbow on the
gunwale of the boat, his chin upon his hand.
"It is one of my husband's favourite bits," said Lady Scarlett, smiling
in the face of him she named.--"Look, Naomi; that is the
fishing-cottage, there on the left."
"I have not seen the weir for years--twenty years," said Aunt Sophia
thoughtfully; "and then it was from the carriage, as we drove along the
road."
"Not half so good a view as this," said Scarlett.--"Now, then, we'll go
through the lock, row up for a mile by the Dell woods, and then back."
"But you will be tired, my dear," said Aunt Sophia, whom the beauty of
the scene seemed to have softened; and her worn sharp face looked
wistful and strange.
"Tired?" said Lady Scarlett, laughing. "Oh, no, aunt; he's never
tired."
"Well," said Scarlett, with a bright look at his wife, "I'll promise one
thing--when we're tired, we'll turn back."
"Yes, dear; but there's all the way to return."
"Oh, the river takes us back itself, aunt," said Lady Scarlett merrily.
"Row up; and then float back."
"Ah, well, my dears, I am in your hands," said Aunt Sophia softly; "but
don't take me into danger, please."
"All right, auntie--There's one of the prettiest bits," he added,
pointing to where the trees on the right bank opened, showing a view of
the hills beyond.--"Now, Jack, pull."
Ten minutes' sharp rowing brought them up to the stout piles that
guarded the entrance to the lock, whose slimy doors were open; and as
they approached, they could see the further pair, with the water hissing
and spirting through in tiny streams, making a strange echo from the
perpendicular stone walls that rose up a dozen feet on either side.
"Lock, lock, lock, lock!" shouted Scarlett in his mellow tones, as the
boat glided in between the walls, and Aunt Sophia turned pale.
"They shut us up here, don't they, James, and then let the water in?"
"Till we are on a level with the river above, and then open the other
pair," said Scarlett quietly. "Don't be alarmed."
"But I am, my dear," said the old lady earnestly. "My nerves are not
what they were."
"Of course not," said the doctor kindly.--"I wouldn't go through, old
fellow," he continued to Scarlett. "Let's paddle about below the weir."
"To be sure," said Scarlett, as he saw his aunt's alarm. "I brought you
out to enjoy yourselves.--Here--hi!" he cried, standing up in the boat,
and making Aunt Sophia lean forward, as if to catch him and save him
from going overboard.--"All right, auntie.--Hi!--catch!" he cried to the
lock-keeper, throwing him a shilling. "We won't go through."
The man did not make an effort to catch the money, but stooped in a
heavy dreamy manner to pick it up, staring stolidly at the occupants of
the boat.
Aunt Sophia uttered a sigh of relief, one that seemed to be echoed from
behind her, where Arthur Prayle was seated, looking of a sallow sickly
grey, but with his colour rapidly coming back as they reached the open
space below the weir, where the water at once seemed to seize the boat
and to sweep it downwards, but only to be checked and rowed upwards
again towards the weir.
"There, auntie, look over the side," cried Scarlett. "Can you see the
stones?"
"Yes, my dear," said Aunt Sophia, who was evidently mastering a good
deal of trepidation. "Is it all shallow like this?"
"Oh, no. Up yonder, towards the piles, there are plenty of holes
fifteen and twenty feet deep, scoured out by the falling water when it
comes over in a flood. See how clear and bright it is."
Aunt Sophia sat up rigidly; but her two companions leaned over on each
side to look down through the limpid rushing stream at the stones and
gravel, over which shot away in fear, shoal after shoal of silvery dace,
with here and there some bigger, darker fish that had been lying head to
stream, patiently waiting for whatever good might come.
"Yes, my dears, it is very beautiful," said Aunt Sophia. "But you are
going very near the falling water, James. It will be tumbling in the
boat."
"Oh, we'll take care of that, auntie," said Scarlett merrily. "Trust to
your boatman, ma'am, and he will take you safe.--What say, Arthur?"
"I say, are there any large fish here?"
"Large fish, my boy? Wait a moment.--Pull, Jack." They rowed close up
to a clump of piles, driven in to save the bank from the constant
washing of the stream.--"Now, look down, old fellow," continued
Scarlett, "close in by the piles. It's getting too late to see them
well. It ought to be when the sun is high.--Well, what can you see?"
"A number of dark shadowy forms close to bottom," said Prayle.
"Ay, shoals of them. Big barbel, some as long as your arm, my lad--ten
and twelve pounders. Come down some day and we'll have a good try for
them."
"Don't go too near, dear," cried Aunt Sophia.
"All right, auntie.--Here, Jack, take the boat-hook, and hold on a
moment while I get out the cigars and matches.--Ladies, may we smoke?
Our work is done."
"A bad habit, James," said Aunt Sophia, shaking her head at him.
"But he has so few bad habits, aunt," said Lady Scarlett, smiling.
"And you encourage him in those, my dear," said Aunt Sophia.--"There
sir, go on."
"Won't you have a cigar, Arthur?"
"Thank you; no," said Prayle, with a grave smile. "I never smoke."
"Good young man!" said the doctor to himself as he lit up.
"Man after your own heart, aunt," said Scarlett merrily, as he resumed
his oar; and for the next half-hour they rowed about over the swiftly
running water, now dyed with many a hue, the reflections from the
gorgeous clouds that hovered over the ruddy sinking sun. The dancing
wavelets flashed and sparkled with orange and gold: the shadows grew
more intense, beneath the trees; while in one portion of the weir, where
a pile or two had rotted away, the water ran down in one smooth soft
curve, like so much molten metal poured from some mighty furnace into
the hissing, boiling stream below.
"I never saw it so beautiful before," cried Scarlett excitedly. "It is
lovely indeed.--Look, aunt.--Why, Arthur, it was worth a journey to
see."
"The place is like one seen in some vision of the night," said Prayle
softly.
"Hah! yes," exclaimed the doctor thoughtfully; "it is enough to tempt a
man to give up town."
"Do, old fellow, and you shall have us Impatients," cried Scarlett, "We
never want a doctor, and I hope we never shall."
"Amen to that!" said Scales, in a low, serious tone. "Ah!" he
continued, "what a pity it seems that we have so few of these heavenly
days."
"Oh, I don't know," said Scarlett. "Makes us appreciate them all the
more."
"I think these things are best as they are," said Prayle in his soft
dreamy tenor. "Yes; all is for the best."
Lady Scarlett looked at him uneasily, and Aunt Sophia tightened her
lips.
"I should like to duck that fellow, and fish him out with the
boat-hook," thought the doctor.
Then the conversation ceased. Words seemed to be a trouble in the
beauty of that evening scene, one so imprinted in the breasts of the
spectators that it was never forgotten. The boat was kept from floating
down with the quick racing current by a sharp dip of the oars just given
now and then, while every touch of the long blue blades seemed to be
into liquid gold and silver and ruddy gems. The wind had sunk, and,
saving the occasional distance--softened lowing from the meads, no sound
came from the shore; but always like distant thunder, heard upon the
summer breeze, came the never-ceasing, low-pitched roar of the falling
water at the weir.
The silence was at last broken by Scarlett, who said suddenly, making
his hearers start: "Now then, Jack, one row round by the piles, and then
home."
"Right," said the doctor, throwing the end of his cigar into the water,
where it fell with a hiss; and bending to his oar, the light gig was
sent up against the racing water nearer and nearer to the weir.
The ladies joined hands, as if there was danger, but became reassured as
they saw their protectors smile; and soon after, quite near to where the
river came thundering down from where it was six feet above their heads,
instead of the stream forcing them away, the water seemed comparatively
still, the eddy setting slightly towards the weir.
"Here's one of the deep places," said Scarlett. "I fished here once,
and my plummet went down over twenty feet."
"And you didn't catch a gudgeon?" said the doctor.
"Not one," replied Scarlett.
"How deep and black it looks!" said Prayle softly, as he laved one soft
white hand in the water.
"Enough to make it," said Scarlett--"deep as that. I say, what a place
for a header!"
"Ah, splendid!" said the doctor; "only, you mustn't dive onto pile or
stone. I say, hadn't we better keep off a little more?"
"Yes," said Scarlett, rising, oar in hand. "I never knew the eddy set
in so sharply before.--Why, auntie, if we went much nearer, it would
carry us right in beneath the falling water, and we should be filled."
"Pray, take care, James."
"To be sure I will, my dear auntie," he said, as he stood up there in
the soft evening light, "I'll take care of you all, my precious
freight;" and wailing his time, he thrust the blade of his oar against a
pile, placed one foot upon the gunwale, and pressing heavily, he sent
the boat steadily farther and farther away, "Back water, Jack," he
said.--"Now!" As he spoke, he gave one more thrust; but in the act
there was a sharp crack as the frail ashen oar snapped in twain, a
shriek of horror from Lady Scarlett as she started up, and a dull, heavy
plunge, making the water foam up, as Sir James Scarlett went in head
foremost and disappeared.
Volume 1, Chapter XI.