An Alarming Interlude 



like all persons of character, there is a streak of 

 aboriginal savagery in his composition, and when 

 that overmasters him, like Synge's Play-boy, he 

 loses all sense of the difference between " a gallons 

 story and a dirty deed." ... It is one thing to 

 dream of slaughter, another in cold blood to carry 



it out. 



Something in the scent of the ducks roused the 

 savagery in Billy. It haunted his dreams, and he 

 brooded over it through the day. 



After tea there was an uncanny stillness over 

 the garden. The very air was affrighted and stood 

 still. No leaf stirred. Not a breath of wind. A 

 dark cloud came up from nowhere, and hid the sun. 



I knew and yet I did not know. I was afraid, 

 and yet some mysterious force drew me to the 



lake. 



The black duck had disappeared, while Guzzling 

 Jemmy lay in the middle of the lake under Billy's 

 paws! Lilies were broken, the peat-carpet was 

 torn and ruckled, every plant in the water was 

 wrenched from its bed— a scene of carnage and 

 devastation. 



Gorging Jack had been buried alive in the nut- 

 walk, but had escaped, and was sitting paralysed 

 with terror in the heather, the most mournful 

 travesty of a duck that ever I saw. 



165 



