sight for aught she cared to all outward seeming. Yet here she was, close
on midnight, in bitterly cold weather, stepping out into rough and unknown
country in company with a man she had only known a few hours.

I went ahead and thought it over. For ten minutes we picked our way in
the deep shadow along the foot of the wall, _per opaca locorum_, as
the great weaver of words puts it, and then I turned outwards into the
open field and the clear moonlight. Of her own accord she placed her arm
in mine, and we stepped it out bravely together.

"We are in unenclosed land here," I explained. "On our right is a patch
which varies between bog and marsh and pool, according to the rains. The
townsmen call it the King's Pool, whatever state it is in. Just ahead, you
can see the line of it, is a little stream, the Pearl Brook. If it isn't
frozen over yet, I can easily carry you across, as it's not more than six
inches deep. The freemen of the Ancient Borough--yon little town has
slumbered there nearly eight hundred years--have, by immemorial custom,
the right of fishing in the Pearl Brook with line and bent pin."

"They do not catch many thirty-pound jack, I suppose?"

"Dear me, no. But it was here I learned to like fishing, and I went on
from minnows and jacksharps to pike."

"And wandering damsels," she interrupted, with a laugh that sounded to me
like the music of silver bells. A minute later, on the edge of the brook,
she said vexedly, "And it's not frozen over." But I had already noticed
that fact with great elation.

"Not more than six inches, you say," she muttered, and made to step in.