Steady, steady,
cried her companion, as the girl raised her arm a little more, to gain greater power over the long elastic pole which did duty for a rod, now bending and quivering, as the great fish she had hooked darted here and there, and at times violently jerked the end. For there was no running line, the governor of the little skiff sending it here and there, as the fish tore through the water, even towing it at times as it made some furious dash.
The skiff came nearer and nearer, for the great pike now darted right towards the shore, running onward towards where the group were standing, and then, finding the water shallow, leaping bodily out, to fall back with a tremendous splash, for it was a monster of its kind. Then with another rush it made straight for the middle, where there were cool and shady depths beneath the water-lilies, amidst whose stout stems the strong line might be tangled and freedom found. But the effort was vain: with a quick turn of the oars the rower spun the skiff round, and urged it along, lessening the stress upon the young girls wrists, and, evidently well accustomed to the management of a boat, hastening or slackening its speed by the guidance of the fishing-pole whether it was heavily or lightly bent.
The chase led the occupants of the boat far away, but Sir Mark did not stir. With one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the other twisting the points of his moustache, he stood gazing after the boat with a red spot burning in either cheek. He seemed to have forgotten the existence of Mistress Anne, and started when she spoke.
You seem to admire our rustic beauty, Sir Mark, she said lightly, but with an uneasy look.
She is divine, he cried. I mean, as a picture, he added hastily. The surroundings are so good. And what a mighty luce she has hooked.
There are monsters in this pool, said Sir Thomas, mildly, for his ordinary pomposity disappeared in the presence of his distinguished guest. There have been great luces here any time these two hundred years, and even before, when this was one of the fish-stews of the monks of Roehurst. Shall we go on, Sir Mark?
Ye-es, said the young man, with a slight hesitancy that did not escape the keen ears of Mistress Anne, whom, after a farewell glance at the distant boat, he tried to appease by a show of attention, though all the time his minds eye was filled with the form of Mace Cobbe, whose simple grace and youthful beauty made Anne Beckley seem dowdy and commonplace in mien.
As they went on along the edge of the great Pool, where the forget-me-nots and brooklime made blue the shallows, while the roar of a furnace and the heavy throb of hammers began to make themselves heard, Anne Beckley stole a glance at the boat, saw that they had been seen by the rower, and turned at once eagerly to Sir Mark, upon whose arm she leaned as they talked, till they reached a little swing-bridge which spanned the narrow stream of water that rushed from the great Pool down a channel formed between two walls of rough sandstone blocks. Here the confined waters sparkled and foamed as they swept on towards a great water-wheel, which they slowly turned, the drops falling glittering like diamonds from the paddles and slimy spokes. Just across the bridge was the large garden, lush with flowers, and surrounding the gabled house, from whose door now appeared a squarely-built, grey-haired man of fifty, to walk slowly towards the bridge, as if to meet the new-comers.
Good day to you, Sir Thomas; a fair time, Mistress Anne, he said bluffly, as he met his visitors. You are welcome to my poor home.
Thank you, Cobbe, said Sir Thomas, pompously, but this is no visit. This noble gentleman comes to you as an ambassage from his Gracious Majesty King James, who condescends to remember that there are others in this part of his realm besides myself.
Ha, ha, ha! laughed Cobbe; his Majesty has good cause to recollect you, Sir Thomas, for you paid him a thousand pounds for your rank.
I merely paid the customary fees, good Master Cobbe, exclaimed Sir Thomas, growing purple with annoyance.
They couldnt be customary, Sir Thomas, as the title is a new one; but we will not argue. Come in and take a glass of muscadine, and some cakes of my daughters make; Mistress Anne looks faint with heat; and then we can discuss this courtly gentlemans ambassage. Ha, ha, ha! I guess what it is. His Majesty is short of cash, and wants another thousand pounds. What do you say, Sir Thomas, shall I buy a baronetcy and become your neighbour? Ha, ha, ha! Sir Jeremiah Cobbe! What say you to that, Mistress Anne?
This is no jesting matter, sir, exclaimed Sir Mark, sharply. Sir Thomas Mistress Anne I must bid you adieu till evening. I will not ask you to enter here with
me now, only thank you for your courtesy.
Shall I send a serving-man to escort you back, Sir Mark? said Sir Thomas, removing his hat, and making the cocks plumes whish , to show the bluff Sussex yeoman how great a man he was about to receive into his house. For Jeremiah Cobbe seemed in nowise abashed, but rather disposed to look with amusement upon the airs and costume of his visitor.