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CHAPTER XLI: 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
seashore--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 southwesterly 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.
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