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The big trout was once more feeding. And Pritchard began to cast hisdiminutive fly up-stream and across. But he cast and got out line by asystem that was new to Gay. He did not "whip" the brook; he whipped theair above it. He never allowed his fly to touch the water but drew itback sharply, and, at the same time, reeled out more line with his lefthand, when it had fallen to within an inch or two of the surface. Hiscasts, straight as a rifle-shot, lengthened, and reached out toward thebowlder point near which the big trout was feeding, until he wasthrowing, and with consummate ease, a line longer than Gay had ever seenthrown.
"It's beautiful," she whispered. "Will you teach me?"
"Of course," he answered.
His fly hovered just above the ring which the trout had just made.Pritchard lengthened his line a foot, and cast again and again, with nofurther change but of an inch or two in direction.
"There's a little current," he explained. "If we dropped the fly intothe middle of the ring, it would float just over his tail and hewouldn't see it. He's looking up-stream, whence his blessings flow. Thefly must float straight down at him, dragging its leader, and notdragged by it."
All the while he talked, he continued casting with compact, forcefulstrokes of his right wrist and forearm. At last, his judgment beingsatisfied by the hovering position attained by fly and leader, herelaxed his grip of the rod; the fly fell upon the water likethistle-down, floated five or six inches, and was sucked under by thebig trout.
Pritchard struck hard.
There was a second's pause, while the big trout, pained and surprised,tried to gather his scattered wits. Three quarters of Pritchard's linefloated loosely across the brook, but the leader and the fly remainedunder, and Pritchard knew that he had hooked his fish.
Then, and it was sudden--like an explosion--the whole length of floatingline disappeared, and the tip of Pritchard's powerful rod was draggedunder after it.
The reel screamed.
"It's a whale!" shouted Gay, forgetting how much depended upon the sizeof the fish, "a whale!"
The time for stealthy movements and talk in whispers was over. Gaylaughed, shouted, exhorted, while Pritchard, his lips parted, his cheeksflushed, gayly fought the great fish.
"Go easy; go easy!" cried Gay. "That hook will never hold him."
But Pritchard knew his implements, and fished with a kind of joyous,strong fury.
"When you hang 'em," he exulted, "land em."
The trout was a great noble potentate of those waters. Years ago he hadabandoned the stealthy ways of lesser fish. He came into the middle ofthe brook where the water is deep and there is freedom from weeds andsunken timber, and then up and down and across and across, with blind,furious rushes he fought his fight.
It was the strong man without science against the strong man who knowshow to box. The steady, furious rushes, snubbed and controlled, becamejerky and spasmodic; in a roar and swirl of water the king trout showedhis gleaming and enormous back; a second later the sunset colors of hisside and the white of his belly. Inch by inch, swollen by impotent fury,galvanically struggling and rushing, he followed the drag of the leadertoward the beach, where, ankle-deep in the water, Gay crouched with thelanding-net.
She trembled from head to foot as a well-bred pointer trembles when hehas found a covey of quail and holds them in control, waiting for hismaster to walk in upon them.
The big trout, still fighting, turning, and raging, came toward themouth of the half-submerged net.
"How big is he, Miss Gay?"
The voice was cool and steady.
"He's five pounds if he's an ounce," her voice trembled. "He's thebiggest trout that ever swam.
"He _isn't_ a trout," said Pritchard; "he's a char."
If Gay could have seen Pritchard's face, she would have been struck forthe first time by a sort of serene beauty that pervaded some of itsexpressions. The smile which he turned upon her crouching figure had init a something almost angelic.
"Bring him a little nearer," she cried, "just a little."
"You're sure he weighs more than three pounds?"
"Sure--sure--don't talk, land him, land him----"
For answer Pritchard heaved strongly upward upon his rod and lifted themighty fish clear of the water. One titanic convulsion of torturedmuscles, and what was to be expected happened. The leader broke a fewinches from the trout's lip, and he returned splashing to his nativeelement, swam off slowly, just under the surface, then dove deep, andwas seen no more.
"Oh!" cried Gay. "Why _did_ you? Why _did_ you?"
She had forgotten everything but the fact that the most splendid of alltrout had been lost.
"Why did you?" she cried again.
"Because," he said serenely and gently, smiling into her grieved andflushed face, "I wouldn't have you as the payment of a bet. I will haveyou as a gift or not at all."
They returned to The Camp, Pritchard rowing.
"I owe you your prospective dividends for the year," he said. "If theyare large, I shall have to give you my note and pay as I can."
She did not answer.
"I think you are angry with me," he said. "I'd give more than a pennyfor your thoughts."
"I was thinking," said she, "that you are very good at fishing, but thatthe art of rowing an Adirondack guide boat has been left out of you."
"Truly," he said, "was that what you were thinking?"
"No," she said; "I was thinking other things. I was thinking that Iought to go down on my knees and thank you for breaking the leader. Yousee, I'd made up my mind to keep my word. And, well, of course, it's agreat escape for me.
"Why? Was the prospect of marrying me so awful?"
"The prospect of marrying a man who would rather lose a five-pound fishthan marry me--was awful."
Pritchard stopped rowing, and his laughter went abroad over the quietlake until presently Gay's forehead smoothed and, after a prelude ofdimples, she joined gayly in.
When Pritchard could speak, he said:
"You don't really think that, do you?"
"I don't know what I think," said Gay. "I'm just horrid and cross andspoiled. Don't let's talk about it any more."
"But I said," said he, "I said 'As a bet, no; but as a gift'--oh, withwhat rapture and delight!"
"Do you mean that?" She looked him in the face with level eyes.
Once more he stopped rowing.
"I love you," he said, "with my whole heart and soul."
"Don't," said Gay, "don't spoil a day that, for all its ups and downs,has been a good day, a day that, on the whole, I've loved--and let'shurry, please, because I stood in the water and it was icy."
After that Pritchard rowed with heroic force and determination; helacked, however, the knack which overlapping oar handles demand, and atevery fifteenth or sixteenth stroke knocked a piece of "bark" from hisknuckles.
Smarting with pain, he smiled gently at her from time to time.
"Will you guide me to-morrow?"
"To-morrow," she said, "there will be enough real guides to go around."
"You really are, aren't you?" he said.
"What?"
"Angry with me."
"Oh, no--I think--that what you said--what you said--was a foolish thingto say. If I came to you with my sisters Lee and Phyllis, you wouldn'tknow which of the three I was, and yet--you said--you said----"
"It isn't a question of words--it's a question of feeling. Do you reallythink I shouldn't know you from your sisters?"
"I am sure of it," said Gay.
"But if you weren't?"
"Then I should still think that you had tried to be foolish but Ishouldn't be angry."
"How," said Pritchard, his eyes twinkling, "shall I convince the girl Ilove--that I know her by sight?"
Gay laughed. The idea seemed rather comical to her.
"To-night," she said, "when you have dined, walk down to the dock alone.One of us three will come to you and say: 'Too bad we didn't have betterluck.' And you won't know i
f she's Lee or Phyllis or me."
* * * * *
Pritchard smoked upon the dock in the light of an arc-lamp. A vision,smiling and rosy, swept out of the darkness, and said:
"Too bad we didn't have better luck!"
"I beg your pardon," said Pritchard, "you're not Miss Gay, but I haven'thad the pleasure of being presented to Miss Lee or Miss Phyllis."
The vision chuckled and beat a swift, giggling retreat to a dark spotamong the pines, where other giggles awaited her.
A second vision came.
"Too bad we didn't have better luck!"
Pritchard smiled gravely into the vision's eyes, and said in so low avoice that only she could hear:
"Bad luck? I have learned to love you with all my heart and soul."
Silence. An answering whisper.
"How did you know me?"
"How? Because my heart says here is the only girl in all the world--seehow different, how more beautiful and gentle she is than all othergirls."
"But I'm not Gay--I'm Phyllis."
"If you are Phyllis," he whispered, "then you never were Gay."
She laughed softly.
"I _am_ Gay."
"Why tell me? I know. Am I forgiven?"
"There is nothing," she said swiftly, "to forgive," and she fledswiftly.
To her sisters waiting among the pines she gave explanation.
"Of course, he knew me."
"How?"
"Why, he said there couldn't be any doubt; he said I was so very muchbetter-looking than any sister of mine could possibly be."
Forthwith Lee pinioned Gay's arms and Phyllis pulled her ears for her.
Mr. Pritchard paced the dock, offering rings of Cuban incense to thestars.
* * * * *
From Play House came the sounds which men make when they play cards anddo not care whether they win or lose.
Maud was in her office, adding a column of figures which the grocer hadsent in. The triplets, linked arm in arm, joined her. Arthur came, andEve and Mary.
They agreed that they were very tired and ready for bed.
"It's going to be a success, anyway," said Mary. "That seems certain."
"We must have the plumber up," said Eve; "the laundry boiler has sprunga leak. Who's that in your pocket, Arthur?"
"Uncas. He came in exhausted after a long day in the woods. Somethingunusual happened to him. I know, because he tried so very hard to tellme all about it just before he went to sleep, and of course he couldn'tquite make me understand. I think he was trying to warn me ofsomething--trying to tell me to keep my eyes peeled."
The family laughed. Arthur was always so absurd about his pets. Alllaughed except Gay. She, in a dark corner, like the rose in the poem,blushed unseen.