ON PLAIN AND PEAK 



It had been a remarkably hot day, with not a 

 "breath of wind to cool the heated atmosphere ; and 

 it seemed more sultry than ever as I set out, my 

 trusty rifle slung on my back in the Continental 

 fashion. Great black clouds were massed on the 

 horizon, and there was a lurid look in the sky, that 

 betokened a thunderstorm before many hours had 

 passed. 



Half an hour's walk brought me to the place my 

 host had named the Dismal Pool. There was 

 something almost eerie about its very appearance, 

 with its black oily-looking water, and the rotting 

 vegetation that clothed its slimy banks. It looked 

 the very spot for some dark crime, and indeed more 

 than one human being had met their death there. 

 Many years ago an under-keeper had been found 

 floating in its stagnant depths, his head beaten in, 

 and his face unrecognisable even to his nearest and 

 dearest. A shadowy story had been handed down 

 of a perversion of justice, and the execution of an 

 innocent person, and the eventual suicide of the 

 real murderer. In that gloomy pond, too, a poor 

 peasant girl had sought rest and forgetfulness, with- 

 in my own recollection. Small wonder that people 

 rather avoided that bit of forest, and that the 

 Dismal Pool possessed the reputation of being 

 haunted \ 



On three sides dense thicket hemmed it in ; but 



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