The Amateur Poacher 



sit under the hedge in the shade, on an armful of hay, 

 munching their crusts at luncheon time. 



The great cavernous place was full of shadows in 

 the brightest summer day ; for the light came only 

 through the chinks in the shutters. These were flush 

 with the floor and bolted firmly. The silence was 

 intense, it being so near the roof and so far aivay 

 from the inhabited parts of the house. Yet there 

 were sometimes strange acoustical effects — as when 

 there came a low tapping at the shutters, enough to 

 make your heart stand still. There was then nothing 

 for it but to dash through the doorway into the empty 

 cheese-room adjoining, which was better lighted. No 

 doubt it was nothing but the labourers knocking the 

 stakes in for the railing round the rickyard, but why 

 did it sound just exactly outside the shutters ? When 

 that ceased the staircase creaked, or the pear-tree 

 boughs rustled against the window. The staircase 

 always waited till you had forgotten all about it 

 before the loose worm-eaten planks sprang back to 

 their place. 



Had it not been for the merry whistling of the 

 starlings on the thatch above, it would not have been 

 possible to face the gloom and the teeth of Reynard, 

 ever in the act to snap, and the mystic noises, and the 

 sense of guilt — for the gun was forbidden. Besides 



