By Reeds and Rushes: a story

Chapter I

A BIRD OF PASSAGE FN past ages at Weltham on the Welt, the river had broken through a narrow channel and had broadened itself out into a beautiful lake. Except for that comparatively narrow entrance this lake is now surrounded by tall reeds and rushes of various kinds, and by endless varieties of wild flowers and bushes which thrive in, or close by, these inland waters. No one, not born and bred by the edge of this water, could guess half the uses that Farmer Tillett, who rented a portion of the lake, made of his property, but it was a daily source of sorrow that his neighbour old Wyatt, also a small farmer, had long ago leased the other half. Indeed, both men had inherited the leases from their fathers, and both knew that this property was worth having, and that they could make "a good thing of it."

But as often happens in this discontented work-a-day world, each farmer envied the other his half-rights, and still more his child. Andrew Tillett was often heard to say, — " Now if I had a big, strong son like Will Wyatt, I'd make twice as good a thing of it as I do, but Polly is a girl, I don't say she ain't a good girl, and sure enough she don't fail in looks ; yes, Polly's well enough, but do what you will a girl's a girl, you can't be ex pecting her to be out all night watching for poachers, and it's the poachers as'll ruin me." Strangely enough, old Wyatt, as he was always called to distinguish him from a brother who also had a farm in the neighbourhood and was a year younger, when he sang his song of discontent struck much the same chord though the tune was slightly different. "No one can contradict me when I says that if Polly Tillett was my girl I'd fetch double the money I now do out of this bit of water.

Why, I've heard loads of visitors declare that they 'ud rather be rowed by Polly than by any man all down the river. Will's a man and ain't to be trusted, and you can't tie a boy down as you can a girl. He's not a one to make up to gentlefolks, he's too independent and too hasty with his temper, and when I think he's waiting for a fare, likely as not he's far off after his own affairs. Will ain't not much use to me now that his head is full of red coats and of drumming. What I wants is a girl like Polly. There ain't a handsomer lass for twenty miles round, and Tillett don't treat her better nor his slave, that he don't, and Tillett's sister seems made up of sour milk and crab apples." Such was the opinion of these two neighbours who couldn't " a-bear " each other. Old Wyatt and his son lived alone in their small farm called " Diver's " which was situated two fields away from the edge of the water, whilst Reed Farm was but a stone's throw from the lake, indeed, Polly's pleasure boat, when not in use, reposed in a tiny creek that ran up close to the back door of the farm.

But there was yet another side of the problem. As may be easily understood, Will and Polly did not share the feelings of their elders. Had they not grown up together on the same lake? Had they not as boy and girl trudged two miles off to the same school ? enjoyed many a youthful frolic, and even played truant together? Had they not also quarrelled and made up their difference, then quarrelled again, but remaining always good friends at the bottom and, on one side at least, con sciously something more ? Hadn't Will taught Polly to be as good at handling a boat as he was himself, had he not taught her to swim, to fish and to shoot? and did she not know as well as he did all about the wild birds, and about the care of the great belt of green reeds which were harvested in the autumn for thatch ing purposes, and which harvest brought in one of those " pretty pennies " which secretly rejoiced the two miserly farmers.

On her side had she not been to him the symbol of pure womanhood, and one which kept him from evil ways and even from evil thoughts. Neither of the young people had a mother alive, and Polly's aunt who acted in that capacity, was not a woman capable of attracting love. She was like her brother, miserly and small minded, and it was certainly one of nature's wonders — a wonder nature happily often shows us — that Polly had grown up into a large hearted and a brave, good, religious-minded girl. She certainly owed much of her courage and her skill to Will Wyatt, but the beauty which God had given her as a free gift she scarcely heeded, for compliments were not in vogue at the farm. To Will she was " Polly," unique as a whole so that it would have been waste of time to compare her with other girls in the village.

And in the humble way in which it is. possible for us all to be saints, Polly came up to her standard of what was right. It would have been impossible for her knowingly to do wrong because she had already begun to live the hidden life with God. Yet she and Will had had the same teaching and the same influences, but to Polly prayer appeared as natural as daily food, whilst Will believed in the strength of his own manhood. Little by little we all of us press onward either towards salvation or to wards ruin. The first step backward is almost imperceptible. Conscience is killed by tiny sins or spiritualised by single words of prayer. The month of July was drawing to a close, and the tourist season had already shown fair blossom and some fruit. All day long Polly had been busy in her boat either near the narrow entrance opening out from the wide, peacefully flowing river, or else rowing stray visitors or parties round the lake and even out of it and down the river.

Now the day was drawing to its close and there was a lull in her labours. All her muscles were relaxed and she was resting on her oars. Her tall pliable figure was bent a little forward as she sang softly the evening hymn, " Sun of my soul, Thou Saviour dear." Then suddenly her beautiful oval face was turned slightly sideways in the direction of Diver's Farm, and there was a look of patient wonderment on her features as she thus reflected to herself in silent words : "Will's not been here all day! He's missed several parties from the pleasure yachts and the wherries. His father'll be none so pleased with him. He always says that ' Will's not to be trusted.' " She shook her head with the mien and gesture of a grandmother so that the low light of the setting sun danced gaily over the brown coils of her plaits and turned the exquisite brown of her face into rich orange.

It was one of Polly's daily problems how she could make Will think about things as she did her self. She had almost a mother's anxiety about him, and she saw plainly how his faults of temper and passionate outbreaks might lead him into many dangers. In her prayers she always added his name in her own simple way. " O God, teach Will to love Thee," she would say, and this always comforted her. All at once Polly shipped the oars and let the boat sea-saw at its own sweet will, then folding her arms, she looked first toward the far western end of the lake and then at the river entrance. Where had Will been all day ? Either he had gone off to Northborough on some wild spree, or else he had taken his boat down the river to the fishing town of Harnouth, there to sell his surplus stock of fish or to get fresh tenants for the fishing.

One thing Polly never did and that was to go to Diver's Farm though sorely tempted to do so now. In that she respected her father's surly command " not to have nothing to do with Wyatt's," but on the other hand Will's boat had often glided right up to the back door of Reed Farm, and his clear, soft, but penetrating whistle had often called her forth from the kitchen or the dairy. " There's a lot of danger at Northborough for him," she now said to herself, resting her chin upon her hand, "and he's so hasty is Will, he's got such a quick temper. He's safer here with God's flowers and wild creatures. I wish he'd take more kindly to the water ways, that I do! but I'm sure he'll not be tied here much longer ; it's ever since he came across the soldiers that he's changed." She sighed a little. The idea of her life lived without Will suddenly appeared to her to be like a terrible gulf of dark loneliness into which she had never looked before.

Strangely enough this was Polly's first idea of love in the ordinary sense of the word, and the idea did not please her so that she even tried to laugh it away for it destroyed her calmness. "We've had words so often, Will and I that I believe I should miss the making-up again ! but, anyhow, Will mustn't go ; his father would be that mad ! " There was such a crimson glow now upon the western sky that it seemed to bathe all the water and the reeds and rushes with red dish gold. It even turned the yellow iris into orange and tinged the white water lilies with carmine. Polly strained her eyes towards " Diver's," but from her present position she could only see the lazy blue smoke curling slowly up above the trees of the wood. Then her eyes followed the line of one path which she knew divided the green and gold meadows, but no manly form breaking the even colour was to be seen there.

At last the girl slowly took up her oars again, for she now became aware that a yacht had silently bounded in through the narrow opening, like a bird that suddenly dips down upon the water in order to catch a fly. The dainty boat could scarce turn in the narrow waterway, but having once accomplished this feat, it flew on for a few yards and then its owner daintily cast anchor. At that moment a turquoise kingfisher darted B across its bows uttering a shrill note, and Polly's quick eye followed it, at the same time saying to herself: "The village folk say it's ill-luck when a kingfisher crosses the bows, but I don't believe God sends a message of evil by such a beautiful bird. Anyhow, here's a job for someone. Will's not here so I must take it. Wherever can he be ? " This mental remark was in answer to a signal from a man upon the yacht.

Without knowing why, however, Polly felt disinclined to answer its summons, but finding no im mediate excuse, she slowly rowed up to the '■' Bird of Passage," as she saw the yacht was named. A gentleman tall, fair, with soft moustache, and clad in an elegant suit of white flannel, suddenly replaced the fisherman, and looking hard at Polly's approaching form, he called out : "We were told that boats could be hired here for an hour's fishing." "Yes," said Polly shortly. "There's my boat and Will Wyatt's boat." "Your boat, my pretty maid, will best suit this romantic spot. How much extra do you charge for multiplying the beauties of nature ? " Polly did not seem to heed his words, but she rowed close up to the yacht and the gentle man immediately stepped in. " Do you want to row round ? " she said without looking at him, "or do you wish to fish ?

" She did not like to think evil of any one and preferred not to see the intended impertinence. " I want to examine that distant creek," was the answer, " and I certainly require your company." Polly took the oars and rowed off. Her companion lolled back, and with a smile on his handsome face he stared at her with rude and undisguised admiration. Polly was not now even thinking of him, but presently, however, she became conscious of the rude stare, and in spite of herself her brown cheek blushed a deeper tinge though she did not utter a syllable, rowing on in silence with almost masculine strength and firmness. " You row uncommonly well, my pretty maid," said the gentleman presently, "and it suits you — down to the ground I was going to say — but I had better alter it to down to the water's edge."

Polly now slowly turned her large dark eyes upon him, as one does upon a toy terrier who is barking at us. A startled pike leapt up close beside them and then left a great wake behind him. The girl looked at the widening circles and then turned her head scornfully towards the bank where the great sedges were waving their green heads looking as stately as herself. Then next she caught sight at that minute of some moor-hens that swam away as the boat rudely disturbed their meditations, but by this time Polly had become conscious that conversation was better than the man's stare. " I found a reed-warbler's nest just there this spring. Some of the gentlefolk who come here know a deal about the birds," she said simply, as if she had noticed nothing of the stranger's rudeness. " And do some of them make a nearer acquaintance with another sweet warbler ?

" he asked, taking a cigar out of a silver case. Polly had all this time been skirting the great line of sedges, but having reached an elder tree she suddenly stood up and shot the boat into a miniature lake, quite hidden from the casual observer and a favourite spot with tourists. Her perfect figure and the beauty of her plait-crowned head were both very noticeable in her present position. As they glided forward the gentleman caught at an over-hanging branch and brought the boat to a stand-still. "With your leave I'll land here, my pretty maid, for this is indeed a charming spot," he said. He stood up and came towards her as if wishing to leap ashore, but instead he all at once stooped down a little and put his arm round her waist. In a moment Polly had turned round with flashing eyes and an arm half raised, but she had no further need to defend herself.

There was the sudden sound of parting leaves, and crashing branches, and a displacement of tall grasses and of the great flowering willow herb, as Will Wyatt suddenly dashed up to the boat like a young bull making its first onslaught. " How dare you insult an honest girl ? " he cried. With one leap he had sprung into the boat, but his weight over-balanced the small craft, causing the stranger to lose his footing. His tall figure was thrown backward, he stretched out his arms in vain trying to grasp at something, failed utterly, for there was nothing to clutch at but thin air, and then lastly he fell heavily into the water among the reeds, the deep mud and the startled water lilies. "Will! Will!" cried Polly, turning pale, "what have you done? I could defend myself well enough. Give the gentleman a hand and help him out.

What will father say ? " But Will Wyatt was too angry to do anything of the sort. He stood with his arms folded whilst the stranger, entangled among reeds and soft mud, floundered deeper into difficulty. " Leave him, Polly, don't touch him," cried the young man angrily, for Polly, disregarding his words, quickly stooped down and held out her strong hand towards the enemy. It was indeed a ridiculous figure that a moment later reseated itself in the boat. The spotless garments were mud-begrimed, and the dirty water had trickled down every available channel between the stranger and his clothes. The gentleman muttered something which sounded like ordinary bad language, then suddenly changing his tone he said, trying to smile at his own discomfiture : " You are, indeed, strange folk in these out of-the-way places.

A bit of fun you take for grave earnest. It's too foolish." " Yes, we're honest folk here and don't put up with your kind of jokes," said Will fiercely. " Get out of the boat, Polly, and I'll take the gentleman back to where he came from. Wait here, and I'll return for you." "No," said Polly firmly, "I'll come too." She was not going to leave Will alone with the stranger ; besides this was her father's boat, and what if he should see Will Wyatt in it rowing a visitor on the lake. Seeing Polly was firm Will seized the oars, and with a few angry strokes he had sent the boat back to the open water. None of the three spoke a word as they flew on over the red reflecting lake in the direction of the yacht, which poised at anchor looked like a white pigeon just fluttering to earth. When they reached the boat Will looked straight into the stranger's eyes.

"It's more than you deserve," he muttered. The gentleman gave him back some un complimentary nouns and adjectives and then began to explain his melancholy appearance to his friend, who looked surprised. " I stepped short of the bank, Turner, and here's the result ! " Then he put his hand in his pocket and drew out a gold coin. " I suppose, my pretty maid, that this is sufficient for your trouble." He handed the half sovereign to Polly who shook her head. "It's too much, sir," she said in a matter of-fact voice. Before she could say more Will had seized the coin and had flung it into the water. " Come, Polly," he said, and swung the boat round. " Ah ! — her jealous lover," laughed the gentle man. " My young hero, we shall meet again, and then I shall have the pleasure of paying you." In a very short time after this the white sailed yacht glided out of the entrance of the lake and Will and Polly were left alone, except that now some fishermen began to sail in for their evening fishing.

Polly looked up at the young waterman. "Oh, Will, Will, how could you be so hasty and so passionate ? You'll get into trouble. You know that it's a soft answer that turneth away wrath." " Did you want me to see you insulted and do nothing ? " Polly smiled as she answered : " You looked like a bull butting a terrier, that you did, Will ! but you didn't give me time to make him feel ashamed. I can do it without losing my temper, you know." She showed her pretty teeth, she smiled now but Will was still quivering with wrath and excite ment. " You smile because you're a girl, Polly, a child. You don't understand. Did you hear the last thing he said ? " " That he would pay you out ! Oh, Will, suppose he should meet you again, but there, that's not likely." " No not that, but what he called me ? " Polly's face blushed very deeply now.

She had heard but she had tried not to heed. " I — I — didn't rightly hear," she said, looking away. " Yes, you did — Look here, Polly, it's true, and because it's true I'm going away. I can't live here and do nothing. Father won't give me honest wages, and I'll never be any nearer to you if I keep on here." A little cry escaped the girl. " Going, going away ! No, no, don't go, Will. It isn't true. It's not right to leave your father alone." "It is true. I'm going to enlist, I can't stand this life any more, besides " "Will, Will, stay. It's your duty. Don't leave your father. Don't, don't leave — me ! "

Chapter II

A GOOD-BYE AUNT PHŒBE'S face was like an 111- written book. It gave you no feeling of satisfaction. Moreover, she made it a point of honour never to let others see that she was pleased, but as this sensation was a rare guest, it seldom needed to be hidden. She had a little money of her own, and she never lost an opportunity of reminding other people of her great kindness in coming to live with " Andrew and his girl." This evening as Polly walked slowly and thoughtfully into the back kitchen Aunt Phœbe came to meet her, and her niece knew at once that something unusual had happened. " It's all very well for you, Polly, to be idling all day on that water, whilst I toils and moils for you and your father. There's not another woman as would do what I've _7 done, and what I do, though I says so.

Why, to-day I'm dead tired, and a-top of all my other work I've had to get the spare room ready and to dust the parlour." " Oh, Aunt Phœbe, why didn't you wait till I came in ! I've had a busy day or I wouldn't have been so late. The visitors are beginning to come in plenty." "I dare say! and you just flops about with those oars and calls it working hard ! It's no oars I uses I can tell you, but my own arms as God gave me. There's no comparison between 'em. And there you stand, Polly, and don't even care to ask what I've done it for." Polly was in fact a little dazed by Will's words and actions, but this state of mind was not allowed to last long. " Oh, Aunt Phœbe, you don't mean to say that father " " Yes, I do ! Your father's picked up a lodger, and expects me to do for him. A quiet man, he calls him, as if a man was ever a thing as is quiet.

They're all of a piece, Polly, a worritting, hungry, tom-fooling, and peace-destroying sex, and I says it as ought to know, seeing I've had to do for 'em these fifty years." " Father promised that if I worked hard he wouldn't take in a lodger, and I've done my best." She spoke slowly but decidedly. " Promises isn't what a man can deal in with profit, Polly. Anyways it's true. He's going to take in a young man as is rich as rich. He'll pay well, Polly, and I mean to get my share after all I've spent on you two." " If he's rich why does he come to our little farm ? " asked Polly wonderingly. "It's a whim, Polly. Gentlefolks is as full of whims as the sea's full of that nasty salt water. He said to me, 'Mrs Tillett,' says he — thinking I was Andrew's wife — ' name your price. What I want is quiet and the peace of your beautiful country.

I'll not give much trouble.' 'Well, sir,' said I, 'seeing you're a man you can't help giving trouble. One way or another they all does, and I'll tell you honest-like, that if it was my house I wouldn't have you at any price.' Well, after a bit we agreed, and he's coming this very evening." Polly thought of the handsome stranger and shuddered a little. He had gone off in the yacht, it could not be that man, but it might be one of the same pattern. " Troubles come always altogether," she thought, and then she busied herself with the evening meal, hiding all the trouble that was in her heart. If only Will would stay. Did he mean what he had said about loving her ? Now that he had said it Polly felt that she had always loved him without knowing it. But if he went away and left her, what could she do?

For a man to be a soldier seemed to her much the same as if he went voluntarily to prison, the water folk having no affinity with red coats. The evening was clouding over now that the sun was setting. Far away Polly could catch sight of the dark red arms of a windmill which seemed to her like warning fingers prophesying evil. She looked westward and tried to get comfort from the sight of the red glow. " God knows I want to do what is best for him," she thought to herself. " I'll try and not be selfish, but if he goes he'll see other girls and he'll forget me. Girls as have not been brought up to my rough life, for I can't sew and do that crochet work as most girls do it, and he'll only think of me as being just Polly, most like a mate of his. Maybe if he goes father'll try and get hold of Diver's, for the old man won't make much of it without Will."

Her meditation was interrupted by sounds of wheels in the avenue. This avenue was more than a mile long, and in ancient days it must have been planted by some rich land-owner to form an approach to his house. The house was gone now, the glory was departed, so that the avenue only led to the lake-side and to a stone's throw of Tillett's small farm, which was surrounded with its old-fashioned cottage garden and its few out-buildings. Aunt Phœbe's voice called out from the parlour. " Polly, there's the gentleman coming. Go and open t' avenue gate." Polly ran into the garden, passed through the farm-yard, and turning a corner, she soon reached the avenue gate. A low pony carriage was approaching. The driver and a young man sat in front, and a small Gladstone bag was placed at their feet. As they came nearer Polly could not help fixing her eyes upon the stranger's countenance.

She thought that she had never seen a face so sad and so handsome. She felt at once that this was no ordinary visitor, and her woman's instinct told her that the man was sorrowful. She knew also that she had a fellow feeling for him. She need not fear this stranger's behaviour to her at all events, for he hardly seemed to notice her. Anthony Forbes suddenly turned his eyes towards the figure at the gate, and instead of looking away he began to wonder. How tall, how beautiful this girl was. He had seen only Aunt Phœbe and he had never guessed that the Polly she mentioned could be a delight to all eyes that possessed any sense of beauty. "Who is that girl?" he said to the yokel who was driving him. "Her's Polly Tillett — Tillett's daughter. She's a proud girl and not a favourite with the lads in the village."

Mr Forbes smiled as Polly opened the gate, and he remarked : " Mrs Tillett said I might come this evening." Polly nodded. " Yes, sir, my aunt is ex pecting you. It looks like clouding up for rain." She looked away from him and lifted her head towards the sky. The pony carriage had to stop in the middle of the farm-yard, there being no front drive. It felt as if one had reached the edge of a flat world. " This is just what I want," said Anthony Forbes, looking round at the beautiful spot and then back again at Polly's grave face. " I think one can forget the world here." " It's all my world," said Polly, laughing suddenly. " I can't forget it, but then on the other side of the water the world comes in pretty often from the river." When Anthony got down, Polly noticed that he was slightly lame.

He dragged one foot a little behind him. It spoilt the manliness of his otherwise manly figure, and it made one pity him instead of admiring him. " What a pity," thought Polly, Will's perfect c form at once rising before her mind's eye. " Poor fellow, and he's rich and yet he can't be straight." Later on, just when the twilight was mellow ing into moonlight, the young man issued from his room, where Aunt Phœbe had seen to his wants, and enquired whether he might be rowed for half-an-hour upon the water. Polly was fetched down to comply with his " whim," because he was rich, though Aunt Phœbe declared it was bed-time, and not the time to take out the pleasure boat. Polly did not mind at all, except that she was rather weary, but on the other hand she hoped to catch another sight of Will. Soon after the lodger was seated in the boat, and Polly was rowing out of the little tree-shadowed canal into the silent lake.

Silent is, however, a misleading expression, for nature is never silent, but her sounds are all harmonious, and none of her music jars upon even the most sensitive ear. The clouds had slowly dispersed before the full moon. There was a lovely path of light in front of them and mysterious gloom beyond among the trees, whilst all around strange shivers and whispers were heard among the reeds and rushes. For a long time neither of the two spoke. Now and then Anthony Forbes looked furtively at Polly, and silently blessed her for being so silent. She was certainly no ordinary girl, but his own thoughts kept him busy, and in this lovely spot he at last breathed a sigh of relief. " I suppose you do not get as much pleasure out of this beauty as I do," he said at last. " You are accustomed to it." Polly looked at him gravely.