Withoutmorewordsthegreatcriminalinvestigatorwentintothelightedlibrary，shuttingthedoorbehindhim，andFisher，withoutreplying，turnedandbegantotalkquietlytoTravers。"Itiscurious，"hesaid，"thatthethingshouldhappenjustinfrontofthatplace。"
　　"Itwouldcertainlybeverycurious，"repliedTravers，"iftheplaceplayedanypartinit。"
　　"Ithink，"repliedFisher，"thatthepartitdidn’tplayismorecuriousstill。"
　　AndwiththeseapparentlymeaninglesswordsheturnedtotheshakenBoyleand，takinghisarm，begantowalkhimupanddowninthemoonlight，talkinginlowtones。
　　DawnhadbeguntobreakabruptandwhitewhenCuthbertGrayneturnedoutthelightsinthelibraryandcameoutontothelinks。Fisherwasloungingaboutalone，inhislistlessfashion;butthepolicemessengerforwhomhehadsentwasstandingatattentioninthebackground。
　　"IsentBoyleoffwithTravers，"observedFisher，carelessly;"he’lllookafterhim，andhe’dbetterhavesomesleep，anyhow。"
　　"Didyougetanythingoutofhim？"askedGrayne。
　　"DidhetellyouwhatheandHastingsweredoing？"
　　"Yes，"answeredFisher，"hegavemeaprettyclearaccount，afterall。HesaidthatafterLadyHastingswentoffinthecarthegeneralaskedhimtotakecoffeewithhiminthelibraryandlookupapointaboutlocalantiquities。HehimselfwasbeginningtolookforBudge’sbookinoneoftherevolvingbookstandswhenthegeneralfounditinoneofthebookshelvesonthewall。Afterlookingatsomeoftheplatestheywentout，itwouldseem，ratherabruptly，ontothelinks，andwalkedtowardtheoldwell;andwhileBoylewaslookingintoitheheardathudbehindhim，andturnedroundtofindthegenerallyingaswefoundhim。Hehimselfdroppedonhiskneestoexaminethebody，andthenwasparalyzedwithasortofterrorandcouldnotcomenearertoitortouchit。
　　ButIthinkverylittleofthat;peoplecaughtinarealshockofsurprisearesometimesfoundinthequeerestpostures。"
　　Grayneworeagrimsmileofattention，andsaid，afterashortsilence：
　　"Well，hehasn’ttoldyoumanylies。It’sreallyacreditablyclearandconsistentaccountofwhathappened，witheverythingofimportanceleftout。"
　　"Haveyoudiscoveredanythinginthere？"askedFisher。
　　"Ihavediscoveredeverything，"answeredGrayne。
　　Fishermaintainedasomewhatgloomysilence，astheotherresumedhisexplanationinquietandassuredtones。
　　"Youwerequiteright，Fisher，whenyousaidthatyoungfellowwasindangerofgoingdowndarkwaystowardthepit。Whetherorno，asyoufancied，thejoltyougavetohisviewofthegeneralhadanythingtodowithit，hehasnotbeentreatingthegeneralwellforsometime。It’sanunpleasantbusiness，andIdon’twanttodwellonit;butit’sprettyplainthathiswifewasnottreatinghimwell，either。Idon’tknowhowfaritwent，butitwentasfarasconcealment，anyhow;forwhenLadyHastingsspoketoBoyleitwastotellhimshehadhiddenanoteintheBudgebookinthelibrary。Thegeneraloverheard，orcamesomehowtoknow，andhewentstraighttothebookandfoundit。HeconfrontedBoylewithit，andtheyhadascene，ofcourse。AndBoylewasconfrontedwithsomethingelse;hewasconfrontedwithanawfulalternative，inwhichthelifeofoneoldmanmeantruinandhisdeathmeanttriumphandevenhappiness。"
　　"Well，"observedFisher，atlast，"Idon’tblamehimfornottellingyouthewoman’spartofthestory。Buthowdoyouknowabouttheletter？"
　　"Ifounditonthegeneral’sbody，"answeredGrayne，"butIfoundworsethingsthanthat。
　　ThebodyhadstiffenedinthewayratherpeculiartopoisonsofacertainAsiaticsort。ThenI
　　examinedthecoffeecups，andIknewenoughchemistrytofindpoisoninthedregsofoneofthem。Now，theGeneralwentstraighttothebookcase，leavinghiscupofcoffeeonthebookstandinthemiddleoftheroom。Whilehisbackwasturned，andBoylewaspretendingtoexaminethebookstand，hewasleftalonewiththecoffeecup。Thepoisontakesabouttenminutestoact，andtenminutes’walkwouldbringthemtothebottomlesswell。"
　　"Yes，"remarkedFisher，"andwhataboutthebottomlesswell？"
　　"Whathasthebottomlesswellgottodowithit？"
　　askedhisfriend。
　　"Ithasnothingtodowithit，"repliedFisher。"ThatiswhatIfindutterlyconfoundingandincredible。"
　　"Andwhyshouldthatparticularholeinthegroundhaveanythingtodowithit？"
　　"Itisaparticularholeinyourcase，"saidFisher。
　　"ButIwon’tinsistonthatjustnow。Bytheway，thereisanotherthingIoughttotellyou。IsaidIsentBoyleawayinchargeofTravers。ItwouldbejustastruetosayIsentTraversinchargeofBoyle。"
　　"Youdon’tmeantosayyoususpectTomTravers？"criedtheother。
　　her。
　　"HewasadealbittereragainstthegeneralthanBoyleeverwas，"observedHorneFisher，withacuriousindifference。
　　"Man，you’renotsayingwhatyoumean，"criedGrayne。"ItellyouIfoundthepoisoninoneofthecoffeecups。"
　　"TherewasalwaysSaid，ofcourse，"addedFisher，"eitherforhatredorhire。Weagreedhewascapableofalmostanything。"
　　"Andweagreedhewasincapableofhurtinghismaster，"retortedGrayne。
　　"Well，well，"saidFisher，amiably，"Idaresayyouareright;butIshouldjustliketohavealookatthelibraryandthecoffeecups。"
　　Hepassedinside，whileGrayneturnedtothepolicemaninattendanceandhandedhimascribblednote，tobetelegraphedfromheadquarters。Themansalutedandhurriedoff;andGrayne，followinghisfriendintothelibrary，foundhimbesidethebookstandinthemiddleoftheroom，onwhichweretheemptycups。
　　"ThisiswhereBoylelookedforBudge，orpretendedtolookforhim，accordingtoyouraccount，"hesaid。
　　AsFisherspokehebentdowninahalf—crouchingattitude，tolookatthevolumesinthelow，revolvingshelf，forthewholebookstandwasnotmuchhigherthananordinarytable。Thenextmomenthesprangupasifhehadbeenstung。
　　"Oh，myGod！"hecried。
　　Veryfewpeople，ifany，hadeverseenMr。
　　HorneFisherbehaveashebehavedjustthen。Heflashedaglanceatthedoor，sawthattheopenwindowwasnearer，wentoutofitwithaflyingleap，asifoverahurdle，andwentracingacrosstheturf，inthetrackofthedisappearingpoliceman。Grayne，whostoodstaringafterhim，soonsawhistall，loosefigure，returning，restoredtoallitsnormallimpnessandairofleisure。Hewasfanninghimselfslowlywithapieceofpaper，thetelegramhehadsoviolentlyintercepted。
　　"LuckyIstoppedthat，"heobserved。"Wemustkeepthisaffairasquietasdeath。Hastingsmustdieofapoplexyorheartdisease。"
　　"Whatonearthisthetrouble？"demandedtheotherinvestigator。
　　"Thetroubleis，"saidFisher，"thatinafewdaysweshouldhavehadaveryagreeablealternative——ofhanginganinnocentmanorknockingtheBritishEmpiretohell。"
　　"Doyoumeantosay，"askedGrayne，"thatthisinfernalcrimeisnottobepunished？"
　　Fisherlookedathimsteadily。
　　"Itisalreadypunished，"hesaid。
　　Afteramoment’spausehewenton。"Youreconstructedthecrimewithadmirableskill，oldchap，andnearlyallyousaidwastrue。Twomenwithtwocoffeecupsdidgointothelibraryanddidputtheircupsonthebookstandanddidgotogethertothewell，andoneofthemwasamurdererandhadputpoisonintheother’scup。ButitwasnotdonewhileBoylewaslookingattherevolvingbookcase。Hedidlookatit，though，searchingfortheBudgebookwiththenoteinit，butI
　　fancythatHastingshadalreadymovedittotheshelvesonthewall。Itwaspartofthatgrimgamethatheshouldfinditfirst。
　　"Now，howdoesamansearcharevolvingbookcase？Hedoesnotgenerallyhopallrounditinasquattingattitude，likeafrog。Hesimplygivesitatouchandmakesitrevolve。"
　　Hewasfrowningatthefloorashespoke，andtherewasalightunderhisheavylidsthatwasnotoftenseenthere。Themysticismthatwasburieddeepunderallthecynicismofhisexperiencewasawakeandmovinginthedepths。Hisvoicetookunexpectedturnsandinflections，almostasiftwomenwerespeaking。
　　"ThatwaswhatBoyledid;hebarelytouchedthething，anditwentroundaselasilyastheworldgoesround。Yes，verymuchastheworldgoesround，forthehandthatturneditwasnothis。God，whoturnsthewheelofallthestars，touchedthatwheelandbroughtitfullcircle，thatHisdreadfuljusticemightreturn。"
　　"Iambeginning，"saidGrayne，slowly，"tohavesomehazyandhorribleideaofwhatyoumean。"
　　"Itisverysimple，"saidFisher，"whenBoylestraightenedhimselffromhisstoopingposture，somethinghadhappenedwhichhehadnotnoticed，whichhisenemyhadnotnoticed，whichnobodyhadnoticed。Thetwocoffeecupshadexactlychangedplaces。"
　　TherockyfaceofGrayneseemedtohavesustainedashockinsilence;notalineofitaltered，buthisvoicewhenitcamewasunexpectedlyweakened。
　　"Iseewhatyoumean，"hesaid，"and，asyousay，thelesssaidaboutitthebetter。Itwasnottheloverwhotriedtogetridofthehusband，but——theotherthing。Andatalelikethataboutamanlikethatwouldruinushere。Hadyouanyguessofthisatthestart？"
　　"Thebottomlesswell，asItoldyou，"answeredFisher，quietly;"thatwaswhatstumpedmefromthestart。Notbecauseithadanythingtodowithit，becauseithadnothingtodowithit。"
　　Hepausedamoment，asifchoosinganapproach，andthenwenton："Whenamanknowshisenemywillbedeadintenminutes，andtakeshimtotheedgeofanunfathomablepit，hemeanstothrowhisbodyintoit。Whatelseshouldhedo？Abornfoolwouldhavethesensetodoit，andBoyleisnotabornfool。
　　Well，whydidnotBoyledoit？ThemoreIthoughtofitthemoreIsuspectedtherewassomemistakeinthemurder，sotospeak。Somebodyhadtakensomebodytheretothrowhimin，andyethewasnotthrownin。Ihadalreadyanugly，unformedideaofsomesubstitutionorreversalofparts;thenIstoopedtoturnthebookstandmyself，byaccident，andI
　　instantlykneweverything，forIsawthetwocupsrevolveoncemore，likemoonsinthesky。"
　　Afterapause，CuthbertGraynesaid，"Andwhatarewetosaytothenewspapers？"
　　"Myfriend，HaroldMarch，iscomingalongfromCairoto—day，"saidFisher。"Heisaverybrilliantandsuccessfuljournalist。Butforallthathe’sathoroughlyhonorableman，soyoumustnottellhimthetruth。"
　　HalfanhourlaterFisherwasagainwalkingtoandfroinfrontoftheclubhouse，withCaptainBoyle，thelatterbythistimewithaverybuffetedandbewilderedair;perhapsasadderandawiserman。
　　"Whataboutme，then？"hewassaying。"AmI
　　cleared？AmInotgoingtobecleared？"
　　"Ibelieveandhope，"answeredFisher，"thatyouarenotgoingtobesuspected。Butyouarecertainlynotgoingtobecleared。Theremustbenosuspicionagainsthim，andthereforenosuspicionagainstyou。
　　Anysuspicionagainsthim，letalonesuchastoryagainsthim，wouldknockusendwaysfromMaltatoMandalay。HewasaheroaswellasaholyterroramongtheMoslems。Indeed，youmightalmostcallhimaMoslemherointheEnglishservice。OfcoursehegotonwiththempartlybecauseofhisownlittledoseofEasternblood;hegotitfromhismother，thedancerfromDamascus;everybodyknowsthat。"
　　"Oh，"repeatedBoyle，mechanically，staringathimwithroundeyes，"everybodyknowsthat。"
　　"Idaresaytherewasatouchofitinhisjealousyandferociousvengeance，"wentonFisher。"But，forallthat，thecrimewouldruinusamongtheArabs，allthemorebecauseitwassomethinglikeacrimeagainsthospitality。It’sbeenhatefulforyouandit’sprettyhorridforme。Buttherearesomethingsthatdamnedwellcan’tbedone，andwhileI’malivethat’soneofthem。"
　　"Whatdoyoumean？"askedBoyle，glancingathimcuriously。"Whyshouldyou，ofallpeople，besopassionateaboutit？"
　　HorneFisherlookedattheyoungmanwithabafflingexpression。
　　"Isuppose，"hesaid，"it’sbecauseI’maLittleEnglander。"
　　"Icannevermakeoutwhatyoumeanbythatsortofthing，"answeredBoyle，doubtfully。
　　"DoyouthinkEnglandissolittleasallthat？"saidFisher，withawarmthinhiscoldvoice，"thatitcan’tholdamanacrossafewthousandmiles。Youlecturedmewithalotofidealpatriotism，myyoungfriend;butit’spracticalpatriotismnowforyouandme，andwithnoliestohelpit。Youtalkedasifeverythingalwayswentrightwithusallovertheworld，inatriumphantcrescendoculminatinginHastings。Itellyoueverythinghasgonewrongwithushere，exceptHastings。Hewastheonenamewehadlefttoconjurewith，andthatmustn’tgoaswell，no，byGod！
　　It’sbadenoughthatagangofinfernalJewsshouldplantushere，wherethere’snoearthlyEnglishinteresttoserve，andallhellbeatingupagainstus，simplybecauseNoseyZimmernhaslentmoneytohalftheCabinet。It’sbadenoughthatanoldpawnbrokerfromBagdadshouldmakeusfighthisbattles;wecan’tfightwithourrighthandcutoff。OuronescorewasHastingsandhisvictory，whichwasreallysomebodyelse’svictory。TomTravershastosuffer，andsohaveyou。"
　　Then，afteramoment’ssilence，hepointedtowardthebottomlesswellandsaid，inaquietertone：
　　"ItoldyouthatIdidn’tbelieveinthephilosophyoftheTowerofAladdin。Idon’tbelieveintheEmpiregrowinguntilitreachesthesky;Idon’tbelieveintheUnionJackgoingupandupeternallyliketheTower。
　　ButifyouthinkIamgoingtolettheUnionJackgodownanddowneternally，likethebottomlesswell，downintotheblacknessofthebottomlesspit，downindefeatandderision，amidthejeersoftheveryJewswhohavesuckedusdry——noIwon’t，andthat’sflat;notiftheChancellorwereblackmailedbytwentymillionaireswiththeirgutterrags，notifthePrimeMinistermarriedtwentyYankeeJewesses，notifWoodvilleandCarstairshadsharesintwentyswindlingmines。Ifthethingisreallytottering，Godhelpit，itmustn’tbewewhotipitover。"
　　Boylewasregardinghimwithabewildermentthatwasalmostfear，andhadevenatouchofdistaste。
　　"Somehow，"hesaid，"thereseemstobesomethingratherhorridaboutthethingsyouknow。"
　　"Thereis，"repliedHorneFisher。"Iamnotatallpleasedwithmysmallstockofknowledgeandreflection。Butasitispartlyresponsibleforyournotbeinghanged，Idon’tknowthatyouneedcomplainofit。"
　　And，asifalittleashamedofhisfirstboast，heturnedandstrolledawaytowardthebottomlesswell。
　　V。THEFADOFTHEFISHERMAN
　　Athingcansometimesbetooextraordinarytoberemembered。Ifitiscleanoutofthecourseofthings，andhasapparentlynocausesandnoconsequences，subsequenteventsdonotrecallit，anditremainsonlyasubconsciousthing，tobestirredbysomeaccidentlongafter。Itdriftsapartlikeaforgottendream;anditwasinthehourofmanydreams，atdaybreakandverysoonaftertheendofdark，thatsuchastrangesightwasgiventoamanscullingaboatdownariverintheWestcountry。Themanwasawake;indeed，heconsideredhimselfratherwideawake，beingthepoliticaljournalist，HaroldMarch，onhiswaytointerviewvariouspoliticalcelebritiesintheircountryseats。Butthethinghesawwassoinconsequentthatitmighthavebeenimaginary。Itsimplyslippedpasthismindandwaslostinlaterandutterlydifferentevents;nordidheevenrecoverthememorytillhehadlongafterwarddiscoveredthemeaning。
　　Palemistsofmorninglayonthefieldsandtherushesalongonemarginoftheriver;alongtheothersideranawalloftawnybrickalmostoverhangingthewater。Hehadshippedhisoarsandwasdriftingforamomentwiththestream，whenheturnedhisheadandsawthatthemonotonyofthelongbrickwallwasbrokenbyabridge;ratheraneleganteighteenth—centurysortofbridgewithlittlecolumnsofwhitestoneturninggray。Therehadbeenfloodsandtheriverstillstoodveryhigh，withdwarfishtreeswaistdeepinit，andratheranarrowarcofwhitedawngleamedunderthecurveofthebridge。
　　Ashisownboatwentunderthedarkarchwayhesawanotherboatcomingtowardhim，rowedbyamanassolitaryashimself。Hisposturepreventedmuchbeingseenofhim，butashenearedthebridgehestoodupintheboatandturnedround。Hewasalreadysoclosetothedarkentry，however，thathiswholefigurewasblackagainstthemorninglight，andMarchcouldseenothingofhisfaceexcepttheendoftwolongwhiskersormustachesthatgavesomethingsinistertothesilhouette，likehornsinthewrongplace。
　　EventhesedetailsMarchwouldneverhavenoticedbutforwhathappenedinthesameinstant。Asthemancameunderthelowbridgehemadealeapatitandhung，withhislegsdangling，lettingtheboatfloatawayfromunderhim。Marchhadamomentaryvisionoftwoblackkickinglegs;thenofoneblackkickingleg;andthenofnothingexcepttheeddyingstreamandthelongperspectiveofthewall。Butwheneverhethoughtofitagain，longafterward，whenheunderstoodthestoryinwhichitfigured，itwasalwaysfixedinthatonefantasticshape——asifthosewildlegswereagrotesquegravenornamentofthebridgeitself，inthemannerofagargoyle。Atthemomenthemerelypassed，staring，downthestream。
　　Hecouldseenoflyingfigureonthebridge，soitmusthavealreadyfled;buthewashalfconsciousofsomefaintsignificanceinthefactthatamongthetreesroundthebridgeheadoppositethewallhesawalamp—post;and，besidethelamp—post，thebroadbluebackofanunconsciouspoliceman。
　　Evenbeforereachingtheshrineofhispoliticalpilgrimagehehadmanyotherthingstothinkofbesidestheoddincidentofthebridge;forthemanagementofaboatbyasolitarymanwasnotalwayseasyevenonsuchasolitarystream。Andindeeditwasonlybyanunforeseenaccidentthathewassolitary。Theboathadbeenpurchasedandthewholeexpeditionplannedinconjunctionwithafriend，whohadatthelastmomentbeenforcedtoalterallhisarrangements。HaroldMarchwastohavetraveledwithhisfriendHorneFisheronthatinlandvoyagetoWillowoodPlace，wherethePrimeMinisterwasaguestatthemoment。MoreandmorepeoplewerehearingofHaroldMarch，forhisstrikingpoliticalarticleswereopeningtohimthedoorsoflargerandlargersalons;buthehadnevermetthePrimeMinisteryet。ScarcelyanybodyamongthegeneralpublichadeverheardofHorneFisher;buthehadknownthePrimeMinisterallhislife。Forthesereasons，hadthetwotakentheprojectedjourneytogether，MarchmighthavebeenslightlydisposedtohastenitandFishervaguelycontenttolengthenitout。
　　ForFisherwasoneofthosepeoplewhoarebornknowingthePrimeMinister。Theknowledgeseemedtohavenoveryexhilaranteffect，andinhiscaseboresomeresemblancetobeingborntired。Buthewasdistinctlyannoyedtoreceive，justashewasdoingalittlelightpackingoffishingtackleandcigarsforthejourney，atelegramfromWillowoodaskinghimtocomedownatoncebytrain，asthePrimeMinisterhadtoleavethatnight。Fisherknewthathisfriendthejournalistcouldnotpossiblystarttillthenextday，andhelikedhisfriendthejournalist，andhadlookedforwardtoafewdaysontheriver。HedidnotparticularlylikeordislikethePrimeMinister，butheintenselydislikedthealternativeofafewhoursinthetrain。Nevertheless，heacceptedPrimeMinistersasheacceptedrailwaytrains——aspartofasystemwhichhe，atleast，wasnottherevolutionistsentonearthtodestroy。SohetelephonedtoMarch，askinghim，withmanyapologeticcursesandfaintdamns，totaketheboatdowntheriverasarranged，thattheymightmeetatWillowoodbythetimesettled;thenhewentoutsideandhailedataxicabtotakehimtotherailwaystation。Therehepausedatthebookstalltoaddtohislightluggageanumberofcheapmurderstories，whichhereadwithgreatpleasure，andwithoutanypremonitionthathewasabouttowalkintoasstrangeastoryinreallife。
　　Alittlebeforesunsethearrived，withhislightsuitcaseinhand，beforethegateofthelongriversidegardensofWillowoodPlace，oneofthesmallerseatsofSirIsaacHook，themasterofmuchshippingandmanynewspapers。Heenteredbythegategivingontheroad，attheoppositesidetotheriver，buttherewasamixedqualityinallthatwaterylandscapewhichperpetuallyremindedatravelerthattheriverwasnear。Whitegleamsofwaterwouldshinesuddenlylikeswordsorspearsinthegreenthickets。
　　Andeveninthegardenitself，dividedintocourtsandcurtainedwithhedgesandhighgardentrees，therehungeverywhereintheairthemusicofwater。Thefirstofthegreencourtswhichheenteredappearedtobeasomewhatneglectedcroquetlawn，inwhichwasasolitaryyoungmanplayingcroquetagainsthimself。Yethewasnotanenthusiastforthegame，orevenforthegarden;andhissallowbutwell—featuredfacelookedrathersullenthanotherwise。Hewasonlyoneofthoseyoungmenwhocannotsupporttheburdenofconsciousnessunlesstheyaredoingsomething，andwhoseconceptionsofdoingsomethingarelimitedtoagameofsomekind。Hewasdarkandwell。dressedinalightholidayfashion，andFisherrecognizedhimatonceasayoungmannamedJamesBullen，called，forsomeunknownreason，Bunker。HewasthenephewofSirIsaac;
　　but，whatwasmuchmoreimportantatthemoment，hewasalsotheprivatesecretaryofthePrimeMinister。
　　"Hullo，Bunker！"observedHorneFisher。"You’rethesortofmanIwantedtosee。Hasyourchiefcomedownyet？"
　　"He’sonlystayingfordinner，"repliedBullen，withhiseyeontheyellowball。"He’sgotagreatspeechto—morrowatBirminghamandhe’sgoingstraightthroughto—night。He’smotoringhimselfthere;drivingthecar，Imean。It’stheonethinghe’sreallyproudof。"
　　"Youmeanyou’restayingherewithyouruncle，likeagoodboy？"repliedFisher。"ButwhatwilltheChiefdoatBirminghamwithouttheepigramswhisperedtohimbyhisbrilliantsecretary？"
　　"Don’tyoustartraggingme，"saidtheyoungmancalledBunker。"I’monlytoogladnottogotrailingafterhim。Hedoesn’tknowathingaboutmapsormoneyorhotelsoranything，andIhavetodanceaboutlikeacourier。Asformyuncle，asI’msupposedtocomeintotheestate，it’sonlydecenttobeheresometimes。"
　　"Veryproper，"repliedtheother。"Well，Ishallseeyoulateron，"and，crossingthelawn，hepassedoutthroughagapinthehedge。
　　Hewaswalkingacrossthelawntowardthelandingstageontheriver，andstillfeltallaroundhim，underthedomeofgoldenevening，anOldWorldsavorandreverberationinthatriverhauntedgarden。
　　Thenextsquareofturfwhichhecrossedseemedatfirstsightquitedeserted，tillhesawinthetwilightoftreesinonecornerofitahammockandinthehammockaman，readinganewspaperandswingingonelegovertheedgeofthenet。
　　Himalsohehailedbyname，andthemanslippedtothegroundandstrolledforward。Itseemedfatedthatheshouldfeelsomethingofthepastintheaccidentsofthatplace，forthefiguremightwellhavebeenanearly—Victorianghostrevisitingtheghostsofthecroquethoopsandmallets。Itwasthefigureofanelderlymanwithlongwhiskersthatlookedalmostfantastic，andaquaintandcarefulcutofcollarandcravat。Havingbeenafashionabledandyfortyyearsago，hehadmanagedtopreservethedandyismwhileignoringthefashions。Awhitetop—hatlaybesidetheMorningPostinthehammockbehindhim。ThiswastheDukeofWestmoreland，therelicofafamilyreallysomecenturiesold;andtheantiquitywasnotheraldrybuthistory。NobodyknewbetterthanFisherhowraresuchnoblemenareinfact，andhownumerousinfiction。ButwhetherthedukeowedthegeneralrespectheenjoyedtothegenuinenessofhispedigreeortothefactthatheownedavastamountofveryvaluablepropertywasapointaboutwhichMr。Fisher’sopinionmighthavebeenmoreinterestingtodiscover。
　　"Youwerelookingsocomfortable，"saidFisher，"thatIthoughtyoumustbeoneoftheservants。I’mlookingforsomebodytotakethisbagofmine;I
　　haven’tbroughtamandown，asIcameawayinahurry。"
　　"NorhaveI，forthatmatter，"repliedtheduke，withsomepride。"Ineverdo。Ifthere’soneanimalaliveI
　　loatheit’savalet。Ilearnedtodressmyselfatanearlyageandwassupposedtodoitdecently。Imaybeinmysecondchildhood，butI’venotgosofarasbeingdressedlikeachild。"
　　"ThePrimeMinisterhasn’tbroughtavalet;he’sbroughtasecretaryinstead，"observedFisher。
　　"Devilishinferiorjob。Didn’tIhearthatHarkerwasdownhere？"
　　"He’soverthereonthelandingstage，"repliedtheduke，indifferently，andresumedthestudyoftheMorningPost。
　　Fishermadehiswaybeyondthelastgreenwallofthegardenontoasortoftowingpathlookingontheriverandawoodenislandopposite。
　　There，indeed，hesawalean，darkfigurewithastoopalmostlikethatofavulture，aposturewellknowninthelawcourtsasthatofSirJohnHarker，theAttorney—General。Hisfacewaslinedwithheadwork，foraloneamongthethreeidlersinthegardenhewasamanwhohadmadehisownway;androundhisbaldbrowandhollowtemplesclungdullredhair，quiteflat，likeplatesofcopper。
　　"Ihaven’tseenmyhostyet，"saidHorneFisher，inaslightlymoreserioustonethanhehadusedtotheothers，"butIsupposeIshallmeethimatdinner。"
　　"Youcanseehimnow;butyoucan’tmeethim，"
　　answeredHarker。
　　Henoddedhisheadtowardoneendoftheislandopposite，and，lookingsteadilyinthesamedirection，theotherguestcouldseethedomeofabaldheadandthetopofafishingrod，bothequallymotionless，risingoutofthetallundergrowthagainstthebackgroundofthestreambeyond。Thefishermanseemedtobeseatedagainstthestumpofatreeandfacingtowardtheotherbank，sothathisfacecouldnotbeseen，buttheshapeofhisheadwasunmistakable。
　　"Hedoesn’tliketobedisturbedwhenhe’sfishing，"
　　continuedHarker。"It’sasortoffadofhistoeatnothingbutfish，andhe’sveryproudofcatchinghisown。Ofcoursehe’sallforsimplicity，likesomanyofthesemillionaires。Helikestocomeinsayinghe’sworkedforhisdailybreadlikealaborer。"
　　"Doesheexplainhowheblowsalltheglassandstuffsalltheupholstery，"askedFisher，"andmakesallthesilverforks，andgrowsallthegrapesandpeaches，anddesignsallthepatternsonthecarpets？
　　I’vealwaysheardhewasabusyman。"
　　"Idon’tthinkhementionedit，"answeredthelawyer。"Whatisthemeaningofthissocialsatire？"
　　"Well，Iamatrifletired，"saidFisher，"oftheSimpleLifeandtheStrenuousLifeaslivedbyourlittleset。We’reallreallydependentinnearlyeverything，andweallmakeafussaboutbeingindependentinsomething。ThePrimeMinisterprideshimselfondoingwithoutachauffeur，buthecan’tdowithoutafactotumandJack—of—all—trades;andpooroldBunkerhastoplaythepartofauniversalgenius，whichGodknowshewasnevermeantfor。Thedukeprideshimselfondoingwithoutavalet，but，forallthat，hemustgivealotofpeopleaninfernallotoftroubletocollectsuchextraordinaryoldclothesashewears。HemusthavethemlookedupintheBritishMuseumorexcavatedoutofthetombs。Thatwhitehatalonemustrequireasortofexpeditionfittedouttofindit，liketheNorthPole。AndherewehaveoldHookpretendingtoproducehisownfishwhenhecouldn’tproducehisownfishknivesorfishforkstoeatitwith。Hemaybesimpleaboutsimplethingslikefood，butyoubethe’sluxuriousaboutluxuriousthings，especiallylittlethings。Idon’tincludeyou;you’veworkedtoohardtoenjoyplayingatwork。"
　　"Isometimesthink，"saidHarker，"thatyouconcealahorridsecretofbeingusefulsometimes。Haven’tyoucomedownheretoseeNumberOnebeforehegoesontoBirmingham？"
　　HorneFisheranswered，inalowervoice："Yes;
　　andIhopetobeluckyenoughtocatchhimbeforedinner。He’sgottoseeSirIsaacaboutsomethingjustafterward。"
　　"Hullo！"exclaimedHarker。"SirIsaac’sfinishedhisfishing。Iknowheprideshimselfongettingupatsunriseandgoinginatsunset。"
　　Theoldmanontheislandhadindeedrisentohisfeet，facingroundandshowingabushofgraybeardwithrathersmall，sunkenfeatures，butfierceeyebrowsandkeen，cholericeyes。Carefullycarryinghisfishingtackle，hewasalreadymakinghiswaybacktothemainlandacrossabridgeofflatstepping—stonesalittlewaydowntheshallowstream;thenheveeredround，comingtowardhisguestsandcivillysalutingthem。Therewereseveralfishinhisbasketandhewasinagoodtemper。
　　"Yes，"hesaid，acknowledgingFisher’spoliteexpressionofsurprise，"Igetupbeforeanybodyelseinthehouse，Ithink。Theearlybirdcatchestheworm。"
　　"Unfortunately，"saidHarker，"itistheearlyfishthatcatchestheworm。"
　　"Buttheearlymancatchesthefish，"repliedtheoldman，gruffly。
　　"ButfromwhatIhear，SirIsaac，youarethelateman，too，"interposedFisher。"Youmustdowithverylittlesleep。"
　　"Ineverhadmuchtimeforsleeping，"answeredHook，"andIshallhavetobethelatemanto—night，anyhow。ThePrimeMinisterwantstohaveatalk，hetellsme，and，allthingsconsidered，Ithinkwe’dbetterbedressingfordinner。"
　　Dinnerpassedoffthateveningwithoutawordofpoliticsandlittleenoughbutceremonialtrifles。
　　ThePrimeMinister，LordMerivale，whowasalong，slimmanwithcurlygrayhair，wasgravelycomplimentarytohishostabouthissuccessasafishermanandtheskillandpatiencehedisplayed;
　　theconversationflowedliketheshallowstreamthroughthestepping—stones。
　　"Itwantspatiencetowaitforthem，nodoubt，"saidSirIsaac，"andskilltoplaythem，butI’mgenerallyprettyluckyatit。"
　　"Doesabigfisheverbreakthelineandgetaway？"inquiredthepolitician，withrespectfulinterest。
　　"NotthesortoflineIuse，"answeredHook，withsatisfaction。"Iratherspecializeintackle，asamatteroffact。Ifhewerestrongenoughtodothat，he’dbestrongenoughtopullmeintotheriver。"
　　"Agreatlosstothecommunity，"saidthePrimeMinister，bowing。
　　Fisherhadlistenedtoallthesefutilitieswithinwardimpatience，waitingforhisownopportunity，andwhenthehostrosehesprangtohisfeetwithanalertnessherarelyshowed。HemanagedtocatchLordMerivalebeforeSirIsaacborehimoffforthefinalinterview。Hehadonlyafewwordstosay，buthewantedtogetthemsaid。
　　Hesaid，inalowvoiceasheopenedthedoorforthePremier，"IhaveseenMontmirail;hesaysthatunlessweprotestimmediatelyonbehalfofDenmark，Swedenwillcertainlyseizetheports。"
　　LordMerivalenodded。"I’mjustgoingtohearwhatHookhastosayaboutit，"hesaid。
　　"Iimagine，"saidFisher，withafaintsmile，"thatthereisverylittledoubtwhathewillsayaboutit。"
　　Merivaledidnotanswer，butloungedgracefullytowardthelibrary，whitherhishosthadalreadyprecededhim。Therestdriftedtowardthebilliardroom，Fishermerelyremarkingtothelawyer："Theywon’tbelong。Weknowthey’repracticallyinagreement。"
　　"HookentirelysupportsthePrimeMinister，"
　　assentedHarker。
　　"OrthePrimeMinisterentirelysupportsHook，"
　　saidHorneFisher，andbeganidlytoknocktheballsaboutonthebilliardtable。
　　HorneFishercamedownnextmorninginalateandleisurelyfashion，aswashisreprehensiblehabit;
　　hehadevidentlynoappetiteforcatchingworms。Buttheotherguestsseemedtohavefeltasimilarindifference，andtheyhelpedthemselvestobreakfastfromthesideboardatintervalsduringthehoursverginguponlunch。Sothatitwasnotmanyhourslaterwhenthefirstsensationofthatstrangedaycameuponthem。Itcameintheformofayoungmanwithlighthairandacandidexpression，whocamescullingdowntheriveranddisembarkedatthelandingstage。Itwas，infact，nootherthanMr。
　　HaroldMarch，whosejourneyhadbegunfarawayuptheriverintheearliesthoursofthatday。Hearrivedlateintheafternoon，havingstoppedforteainalargeriversidetown，andhehadapinkeveningpaperstickingoutofhispocket。Hefellontheriversidegardenlikeaquietandwell—behavedthunderbolt，buthewasathunderboltwithoutknowingit。
　　Thefirstexchangeofsalutationsandintroductionswascommonplaceenough，andconsisted，indeed，oftheinevitablerepetitionofexcusesfortheeccentricseclusionofthehost。Hehadgonefishingagain，ofcourse，andmustnotbedisturbedtilltheappointedhour，thoughhesatwithinastone’sthrowofwheretheystood。
　　"Youseeit’shisonlyhobby，"observedHarker，apologetically，"and，afterall，it’shisownhouse;andhe’sveryhospitableinotherways。"
　　"I’mratherafraid，"saidFisher，inalowervoice，"thatit’sbecomingmoreofamaniathanahobby。I
　　knowhowitiswhenamanofthatagebeginstocollectthings，ifit’sonlycollectingthoserottenlittleriverfish。YourememberTalbot’sunclewithhistoothpicks，andpooroldBuzzyandthewasteofcigarashes。Hookhasdonealotofbigthingsinhistime——thegreatdealintheSwedishtimbertradeandthePeaceConferenceatChicago——butIdoubtwhetherhecaresnowforanyofthosebigthingsashecaresforthoselittlefish。"
　　"Oh，come，come，"protestedtheAttorney—General。
　　"You’llmakeMr。Marchthinkhehascometocallonalunatic。Believeme，Hookonlydoesitforfun，likeanyothersport，onlyhe’softhekindthattakeshisfunsadly。ButIbetiftherewerebignewsabouttimberorshipping，hewoulddrophisfunandhisfishallright。"
　　"Well，Iwonder，"saidHorneFisher，lookingsleepilyattheislandintheriver。
　　"Bytheway，isthereanynewsofanything？"askedHarkerofHaroldMarch。"Iseeyou’vegotaneveningpaper;oneofthoseenterprisingeveningpapersthatcomeoutinthemorning。"
　　"ThebeginningofLordMerivale’sBirminghamspeech，"repliedMarch，handinghimthepaper。"It’sonlyaparagraph，butitseemstomerathergood。"
　　Harkertookthepaper，flappedandrefoldedit，andlookedatthe"StopPress"news。Itwas，asMarchhadsaid，onlyaparagraph。ButitwasaparagraphthathadapeculiareffectonSirJohnHarker。Hisloweringbrowsliftedwithaflickerandhiseyesblinked，andforamomenthisleatheryjawwasloosened。Helookedinsomeoddfashionlikeaveryoldman。Then，hardeninghisvoiceandhandingthepapertoFisherwithoutatremor，hesimplysaid：
　　"Well，here’sachanceforthebet。You’vegotyourbignewstodisturbtheoldman’sfishing。"
　　HorneFisherwaslookingatthepaper，andoverhismorelanguidandlessexpressivefeaturesachangealsoseemedtopass。Eventhatlittleparagraphhadtwoorthreelargeheadlines，andhiseyeencountered，"SensationalWarningtoSweden，"
　　and，"WeShallProtest。"
　　"Whatthedevil——"hesaid，andhiswordssoftenedfirsttoawhisperandthenawhistle。
　　"WemusttelloldHookatonce，orhe’llneverforgiveus，"saidHarker。"He’llprobablywanttoseeNumberOneinstantly，thoughitmaybetoolatenow。I’mgoingacrosstohimatonce。IbetI’llmakehimforgethisfish，anyhow。"And，turninghisback，hemadehiswayhurriedlyalongtheriversidetothecausewayofflatstones。
　　MarchwasstaringatFisher，inamazementattheeffecthispinkpaperhadproduced。
　　"Whatdoesitallmean？"hecried。"IalwayssupposedweshouldprotestindefenseoftheDanishports，fortheirsakesandourown。WhatisallthisbotherationaboutSirIsaacandtherestofyou？Doyouthinkitbadnews？"
　　"Badnews！"repeatedFisher，withasortofsoftemphasisbeyondexpression。
　　"Isitasbadasallthat？"askedhisfriend，atlast。
　　"Asbadasallthat？"repeatedFisher。"Whyofcourseit’sasgoodasitcanbe。It’sgreatnews。It’sgloriousnews！That’swherethedevilofitcomesin，toknockusallsilly。It’sadmirable。It’sinestimable。
　　Itisalsoquiteincredible。"
　　Hegazedagainatthegrayandgreencolorsoftheislandandtheriver，andhisratherdrearyeyetraveledslowlyroundtothehedgesandthelawns。
　　"Ifeltthisgardenwasasortofdream，"hesaid，"andIsupposeImustbedreaming。Butthereisgrassgrowingandwatermoving;andsomethingimpossiblehashappened。"
　　Evenashespokethedarkfigurewithastooplikeavultureappearedinthegapofthehedgejustabovehim。
　　"Youhavewonyourbet，"saidHarker，inaharshandalmostcroakingvoice。"Theoldfoolcaresfornothingbutfishing。Hecursedmeandtoldmehewouldtalknopolitics。"
　　"Ithoughtitmightbeso，"saidFisher，modestly。
　　"Whatareyougoingtodonext？"
　　"Ishallusetheoldidiot’stelephone，anyhow，"
　　repliedthelawyer。"Imustfindoutexactlywhathashappened。I’vegottospeakfortheGovernmentmyselfto—morrow。"Andhehurriedawaytowardthehouse。
　　Inthesilencethatfollowed，averybewildeingsilencesofarasMarchwasconcerned，theysawthequaintfigureoftheDukeofWestmoreland，withhiswhitehatandwhiskers，approachingthemacrossthegarden。Fisherinstantlysteppedtowardhimwiththepinkpaperinhishand，and，withafewwords，pointedouttheapocalypticparagraph。Theduke，whohadbeenwalkingslowly，stoodquitestill，andforsomesecondshelookedlikeatailor’sdummystandingandstaringoutsidesomeantiquatedshop。
　　ThenMarchheardhisvoice，anditwashighandalmosthysterical：
　　"Buthemustseeit;hemustbemadetounderstand。Itcannothavebeenputtohimproperly。"Then，withacertainrecoveryoffullnessandevenpomposityinthevoice，"Ishallgoandtellhimmyself。"
　　Amongthequeerincidentsofthatafternoon，Marchalwaysrememberedsomethingalmostcomicalabouttheclearpictureoftheoldgentlemaninhiswonderfulwhitehatcarefullysteppingfromstonetostoneacrosstheriver，likeafigurecrossingthetrafficinPiccadilly。Thenhedisappearedbehindthetreesoftheisland，andMarchandFisherturnedtomeettheAttorney—General，whowascomingoutofthehousewithavisageofgrimassurance。
　　"Everybodyissaying，"hesaid，"thatthePrimeMinisterhasmadethegreatestspeechofhislife。
　　Perorationandloudandprolongedcheers。Corruptfinanciersandheroicpeasants。WewillnotdesertDenmarkagain。"
　　Fishernoddedandturnedawaytowardthetowingpath，wherehesawthedukereturningwitharatherdazedexpression。Inanswertoquestion，hesaid，inahuskyandconfidentialvoice：
　　"Ireallythinkourpoorfriendcannotbehimself。
　　Herefusedtolisten;he——ah——suggestedthatImightfrightenthefish。"
　　AkeenearmighthavedetectedamurmurfromMr。Fisheronthesubjectofawhitehat，butSirJohnHarkerstruckitmoredecisively：
　　"Fisherwasquiteright。Ididn’tbelieveitmyself，butit’squiteclearthattheoldfellowisfixedonthisfishingnotionbynow。Ifthehousecaughtfirebehindhimhewouldhardlymovetillsunset。"
　　Fisherhadcontinuedhisstrolltowardthehigherembankedgroundofthetowingpath，andhenowsweptalongandsearchinggaze，nottowardtheisland，buttowardthedistantwoodedheightsthatwerethewallsofthevalley。Aneveningskyasclearasthatofthepreviousdaywassettlingdownalloverthedimlandscape，buttowardthewestitwasnowredratherthangold;therewasscarcelyanysoundbutthemonotonousmusicoftheriver。Thencamethesoundofahalf—stifledexclamationfromHorneFisher，andHaroldMarchlookedupathiminwonder。
　　"Youspokeofbadnews，"saidFisher。"Well，thereisreallybadnewsnow。Iamafraidthisisabadbusiness。"
　　"Whatbadnewsdoyoumean？"askedhisfriend，consciousofsomethingstrangeandsinisterinhisvoice。
　　"Thesunhasset，"answeredFisher。
　　Hewentonwiththeairofoneconsciousofhavingsaidsomethingfatal。"Wemustgetsomebodytogoacrosswhomhewillreallylistento。Hemaybemad，butthere’smethodinhismadness。Therenearlyalwaysismethodinmadness。
　　It’swhatdrivesmenmad，beingmethodical。Andhenevergoesonsittingthereaftersunset，withthewholeplacegettingdark。Where’shisnephew？I
　　believehe’sreallyfondofhisnephew。"
　　"Look！"criedMarch，abruptly。"Why，he’sbeenacrossalready。Thereheiscomingback。"
　　And，lookinguptheriveroncemore，theysaw，darkagainstthesunsetreflections，thefigureofJamesBullensteppinghastilyandratherclumsilyfromstonetostone。Onceheslippedonastonewithaslightsplash。Whenherejoinedthegrouponthebankhisolivefacewasunnaturallypale。
　　Theotherfourmenhadalreadygatheredonthesamespotandalmostsimultaneouslywerecallingouttohim，"Whatdoeshesaynow？"
　　"Nothing。Hesays——nothing。"
　　Fisherlookedattheyoungmansteadilyforamoment;thenhestartedfromhisimmobility。and，makingamotiontoMarchtofollowhim，himselfstrodedowntotherivercrossing。Inafewmomentstheywereonthelittlebeatentrackthatranroundthewoodedisland，totheothersideofitwherethefishermansat。Thentheystoodandlookedathim，withoutaword。
　　SirIsaacHookwasstillsittingproppedupagainstthestumpofthetree，andthatforthebestofreasons。Alengthofhisowninfalliblefishinglinewastwistedandtightenedtwiceroundhisthroatandthentwiceroundthewoodenpropbehindhim。Theleadinginvestigatorranforwardandtouchedthefisherman’shand，anditwasascoldasafish。
　　"Thesunhasset，"saidHorneFisher，inthesameterribletones，"andhewillneverseeitriseagain。"
　　Tenminutesafterwardthefivemen，shakenbysuchashock，wereagaintogetherinthegarden，lookingatoneanotherwithwhitebutwatchfulfaces。
　　Thelawyerseemedthemostalertofthegroup;hewasarticulateifsomewhatabrupt。
　　"Wemustleavethebodyasitisandtelephoneforthepolice，"hesaid。"Ithinkmyownauthoritywillstretchtoexaminingtheservantsandthepoorfellow’spapers，toseeifthereisanythingthatconcernsthem。Ofcourse，noneofyougentlemenmustleavethisplace。"
　　Perhapstherewassomethinginhisrapidandrigorouslegalitythatsuggestedtheclosingofanetortrap。Anyhow，youngBullensuddenlybrokedown，orperhapsblewup，forhisvoicewaslikeanexplosioninthesilentgarden。
　　"Inevertouchedhim，"hecried。"IswearIhadnothingtodowithit！"
　　"Whosaidyouhad？"demandedHarker，withahardeye。"Whydoyoucryoutbeforeyou’rehurt？"
　　"Becauseyoualllookatmelikethat，"criedtheyoungman，angrily。"DoyouthinkIdon’tknowyou’realwaystalkingaboutmydamneddebtsandexpectations？"
　　RathertoMarch’ssurprise，Fisherhaddrawnawayfromthisfirstcollision，leadingthedukewithhimtoanotherpartofthegarden。Whenhewasoutofearshotoftheothershesaid，withacurioussimplicityofmanner：
　　"Westmoreland，Iamgoingstraighttothepoint。"
　　"Well？"saidtheother，staringathimstolidly。