1 84 BROADLAND SPORT 



He sees himself in the interior of an old ruined watermill, 

 taking shelter from a storm of wind and rain, accompanied 

 by lightning and thunder. Seated on the ground beside 

 him is a retriever, and as he gazes upon its curly coat and 

 hazel eyes its shape gradually changes, and again he sees 

 that Molly is with him. The storm lifts as suddenly as it had 

 begun, and he emerges into the bright sunshine, which makes 

 the raindrops on the reed stems sparkle like diamonds. Hand- 

 in-hand they stand on the river bank and gaze at the retreat- 

 ing storm, whilst a perfect rainbow, tending to send thoughts 

 Scripture wards by its dazzling colours, is brought the more 

 into prominence by the heavy leaden hues of the angry- 

 looking clouds beyond. 



He suggests the fish should be well on the feed after such a 

 storm. Molly shakes her pretty curls and inquires what kind 

 of fish he would endeavour to lure from their natural element. 



Roach, dace, bream ? " Ah ! they may be all very well to 

 catch," says Molly, " but give me pike, perch and eels : they 

 are better to eat and are more marketable." Yes, Molly, even in 

 her earliest days, seems always to have had an eye to the 

 larder. Lying down at full length on the wet board flooring 

 over the mill sluice, she peers far down into the clear depths 

 below : she does not require to shade her eyes, her hair does 

 that for her ; long she gazes, and then she produces from 

 somewhere hooks and string. Molly always seemed to carry 

 these. With a stick she grubbs about in a neighbouring patch 

 of ground which once had been cultivated, but which has for 

 years been allowed to run wild, and is now tenanted by weeds 

 and a stray currant bush or so. Here she finds what she re- 

 quires worms, and in a few minutes she is once more hang- 

 ing her head over the rotten flooring of the sluice. He joins 

 her, and when his eyes become accustomed to the light he can 

 see numerous little heads peeping from holes in the mud, 

 chinks in the walls, and round posts, indicating that goodly 

 eels must be lurking there perhaps this is the Blue Beard's 

 chamber of eel-land. Molly had tried the game before ; she 

 knew which were the best holes to try near ; the artful way 



