A LONDON TROUT 69 



there at all ; but have merely hoped for perch, or tench, 

 or eels ? The pool was deep and the fish quick they 

 did not bale it, might he have escaped? Might they 

 even, if they did find him, have mercifully taken him 

 and placed him alive in some other water nearer their 

 homes ? Is it possible that he may have almost mira- 

 culously made his way down the stream into other 

 pools ? 



There was very heavy rain one night, which might 

 have given him such a chance. These " mights," and 

 "ifs," and "is it possible" even now keep alive some 

 little hope that some day I may yet see him again. But 

 that was in the early summer. It is now winter, and 

 the beech has brown spots. Among the limes the 

 sedges are matted and entangled, the sword-flags rusty ; 

 the rooks are at the acorns, and the plough is at work 

 in the stubble. I have never seen him since. I never 

 failed to glance over the parapet into the shadowy water. 

 Somehow it seemed to look colder, darker, less pleasant 

 than it used to do. The spot was empty, and the shrill 

 winds whistled through the poplars. 



