Chapter 48
volume three chapter one of gwen by reading by large rolander gwen by a romance of the why by main read volume three chapter one once more upon the river nowhere in england perhaps nowhere in europe is the autumnal foliage more charmingly tinted than on the banks of the wye where it runs through the shire of hereford there vaga threads her way amid woods that appear painted and in colours almost as vivid as those of the famed american forests the beech instead of us elsewhere dyeing off dull bistur takes a tint of bright amber the chestnut turns translucent lemon the oak leaves show rose colours along their edges
and the witch hazel coral red by its umbels of thickly clustering fruit here and there along the high-pitched hill sides flecks of crimson proclaim the wild cherry spots of hoar white bespeck the climbing clematis scarlet the holly with its wax-like berries and maroon-red the hawthorn while interspersed and contrasting are dashes of green in all its varied shades where hues unipers gorse ivy and other indigenous evergreens display their living verdure throughout all the year daring winter's frosts and defying its snows it is autumn now and the woods of the wye have donned its dress no livery of faded green nor sombre russet but a robe of gaudiest sheen its hue scarlet crimson green and golden brown october elsewhere is brilliant here and though leaves have fallen and are falling the sight suggests no thought of decay nor brings sadness to the heart of the beholder instead the gaudy tapestry hanging from the trees and the gay-coloured carpet spread underneath but gladden it still further is it rejoiced by sounds heard
for the woods of wyeside are not voiceless even in winter within them the birds ever sing and although their autumn concert may not equal that of spring lacking its leading tenor the nightingale still is it alike vociferous and alike splendidly attuned bold as ever is the flageolet note of the blackbird not less loud and sweet the carol of its shire cousin the thrush as airs soft and tender the cooing of the coochat and with mirth unabated the cackle of the green woodpecker as with long tongue prehensile as human hand it penetrates the ant hive in search of its insect prey october it is and where the wise silver stream like a grand glistening snake menders amid these woods of golden dew and glorious song a small rowboat is seen dropping downward there are two men in it one rowing the other seated in the stern sheets steering the same individuals have been observed before in like relative position and similarly occupied
for he at the oars is jack wingate the steerer captain ryecroft little thought the young waterman when that big gift the ten-pound bank-note was thrust into his palm he would so soon again have the generous donor for a fare he has him now without knowing why or inquiring too glad once more to sit on his boat's thwarts viz with the captain it would ill become him to be inquisitive besides there is a feeling of solemnity in there thus again being together with sadness pervading the thoughts of both and holding speech in restraint all he knows is that his old fare has hired him for a road down the river but bent on no fishing business for it is twilight his excursion has a different object but what the boatman cannot tell no inference could be drawn from the laconic order he received at embarking row me down the river jack distance and all else left undefined
and down jack is rowing him in regular measured stroke no words passing between them both are silent as though listening to the splash of the oar-blades or the roundelay of late singing birds on the river's bank yet neither of these sounds has place in their thoughts instead only the memory of one different and less pleasant for they are thinking of cries shrieks heard by them not so long ago and still too fresh in their memory ryecroft is the first to break silence saying this must be about the place where we heard it although not a word has been said of what the it is and the remark seems made in soliloquy rather than as an interrogation wingate well knows what is meant as shown by his rejoinder it is the very spot captain ah you know it i do i'm sure you see that big poplar standing on the bank there yes well we were just abreast o it when ye bid me hold way in course we must a heard the screech just then hold way now pull back a length or two steady her keep opposite the tree
the boatman obeys first pulling the backstroke then staying his craft against the current once more relapsing into silence ryecroft sends his gaze down-stream as though noting the distance to langorren court whose chimneys are visible in the moonlight now on then as if satisfied with some mental observation he directs the other to row off but as the kiosk like structure comes within sight he orders another pause while making a minute survey of the summer-house and the stretch of water between part of this is the main channel of the river the other portion being the narrow way behind the ayat on approaching on which the pavilion is again lost to view hidden by a top of tall trees but once within the byway it can be again sighted and when near the entrance to this the waterman gets the word to pull into it he is somewhat surprised at receiving this direction it is the way to langorren court by the boat-stair and he knows the people now living there are not friends of his fare not even acquaintances so far as he has heard
surely the captain is not going to call on mr levin murdock in amicable intercourse so queries jack wingate but only of himself and without receiving answer one way or other he will soon get it and thus consoling himself he rose on into the narrower channel not much farther before getting convinced that the captain has no intention of making a call at the court nor is the mary to enter that little dock where more than once she has lain moored beside the gwendoline when opposite the summer-house he is once more commanded to bring to with the intimation added i'm not going any farther jack jack sees his stroke and again holds the skiff so as to hinder it from drifting ryecroft sits with eyes turned towards the cliff taking in its faade from base to summit as though engaged in a geological study or trigonometrical calculation the waterman for a while wondering what it is all about soon begins to have a glimmer of comprehension it is clearer when he is directed to scull the boat up into the little cove where the body was found
soon as he has her steadied inside it close up against the cliff's base ryecroft draws out a small lamp and lights it he then rises to his feet and leaning forward lays hold of a projecting point of rock on that resting his hand he continues for some time regarding the scratches on its surface supposed to have been made by the feet of the drowned lady in her downward descent where he stands they are close to his eyes and he can trace them from commencement to termination and so doing a shadow of doubt is seen to steal over his face as though he doubted the finding of the coroner's jury and the belief of every one that gwendoline wynne had there fallen over bending lower and examining the broken branches of the juniper he doubts no more but is sure convinced of the contrary jack wingate sees him start back with a strange surprised look at the same time exclaiming i thought as much no accident no suicide
murdered still wondering the waterman asks no questions whatever it may mean he expects to be told in time and is therefore patient his patience is not tried by having to stay much longer there only a few moments more during which ryecroft bends over the boat's side takes the juniper twigs in his hand one after the other raises them up as they were before being broken then lets them gently down again to his companion he says nothing to explain this apparently eccentric manipulation leaving jack to guesses only when it is over and he is apparently satisfied or with observation exhausted giving the order way wingate row back up the river with alacrity the waterman obeys but too glad to get out of that shadowy passage for a weird feeling is upon him as he remembers how there the screech owls mournfully cried as if to make him sadder when thinking of his own lost love
moving out into the main channel and on up stream brycroft is once more silent and musing but on reaching the place from which the pavilion can be again sighted he turns round on the thwart and looks back it startles him to see a form under the shadow of its roof a woman how different from that he last saw there the exocotte of paris faded flower of the chardin has replaced the fresh beautiful blossom of wyeside blighted in its bloom chapter one read by
