Part 22 (1/2)
Here he scurried and scuttled for all the world like a dipper, with his breast showing white like that of the bird, as he walked along the bottom of the pool. Most of the time his head was beneath the water, as well as all the rest of his body. His arms bored their way round the intricacies of the boulders at the bottom. His brown and freckled hands pursued the trouts beneath the banks. Sometimes he would have one in each hand at the same time.
When he caught them he had a careless and reckless way of throwing them up on the bank without looking where he was throwing. The first one he threw in this way took effect on the cheek of Ralph Peden, to his exceeding astonishment.
Winsome again cried ”Andra!” warningly, but Andra was far too busy to listen; besides, it is not easy to hear with one's head under water and the frightened trout flas.h.i.+ng in lightning wimples athwart the pool.
But for all that, the fisherman's senses were acute, even under the water; for as Winsome and Ralph were not very energetic in catching the lively speckled beauties which found themselves so unexpectedly frisking upon the green gra.s.s, one or two of them (putting apparently their tails into their mouths, and letting go, as with the release of a steel spring) turned a splas.h.i.+ng somersault into the pool. Andra did not seem to notice them as they fell, but in a little while he looked up with a trout in his hand, the peat-water running in bucketfuls from his hair and s.h.i.+rt, his face full of indignation.
”Ye're lettin' them back again!” he exclaimed, looking fiercely at the trout in his hand. ”This is the second time I hae catched this yin wi' the wart on its tail!” he said. ”D'ye think I'm catchin'
them for fun, or to gie them a change o' air for their healths, like fine fowk that come frae Embro'!”
”Andra, I will not allow--” Winsome began, who felt that on the ground of Craig Ronald a guest of her grandmother's should be respected.
But before she had got further Andra was again under the water, and again the trout began to rain out, taking occasional local effect upon both of them.
Finally Andra looked up with an air of triumph. ”It tak's ye a'
yer time to grup them on the dry land, I'm thinkin',” said he with some fine scorn; ”ye had better try the paddocks. It's safer.” So, shaking himself like a water-dog, he climbed up on the gra.s.s, where he collected the fish into a large fis.h.i.+ng basket which Winsome had brought. He looked them over and said, as he handled one of them:
”Oh, ye're there, are ye? I kenned I wad get ye some day, impidence. Ye hae nae business i' this pool ony way. Ye belang half a mile faurer up, my lad; ye'll bite aff nae mair o' my heuks. There maun be three o' them i' his guts the noo--”
Here Winsome looked a meaning look at him, upon which Andra said:
”I'm juist gaun. Ye needna tell me that it's kye-time. See you an'
be hame to tak' in yer grannie's tea. Ye're mair likely to be ahint yer time than me!”
Haying sped this Parthian shaft, Andra betook himself over the moor with his backful of spoil.
CHAPTER XXV.
BARRIERS BREAKING.
”Andra is completely spoiled,” exclaimed Winsome; ”he is a clever boy, and I fear we have given him too much of his own will. Only Jess can manage him.”
Winsome felt the reference to be somewhat unfortunate. It was, of course, no matter to her whether a servant la.s.s put a flower in Ralph Peden's coat; though, even as she said it, she owned to herself that Jess was different from other servant maids, both by nature and that quickness of tongue which she had learned when abroad.
Still, the piquant resentment Winsome felt, gave just that touch, of waywardness and caprice which was needed to make her altogether charming to Ralph, whose acquaintance with women had been chiefly with those of his father's flock, who buzzed about him everywhere in a ferment of admiration.
”Your feet are wet,” said Winsome, with charming anxiety.
Andra was a.s.suredly now far over the moor. They had rounded the jutting point of rock which shut in the linn, and were now walking slowly along the burnside, with the misty sunlight s.h.i.+ning upon them, with a glistering and suffused green of fresh leaf sap in its glow. So down that glen many lovers had walked before.
Ralph's heart beat at the tone of Winsome's inquiry. He hastened to a.s.sure her that, as a matter of personal liking, he rather preferred to go with his feet wet in the summer season.
”Do you know,” said Winsome, confidingly, ”that if I dared I would run barefoot over the gra.s.s even yet. I remember to this day the happiness of taking off my stockings when I came home from the Keswick school, and racing over the fresh gra.s.s to feel the daisies underfoot. I could do it yet.”
”Well, let us,” said Ralph Peden, the student in divinity, daringly.
Winsome did not even glance up. Of course, she could not have heard, or she would have been angry at the preposterous suggestion. She thought awhile, and then said: