i AT DAWN OF DAY 7 



in deep draughts, for by now morning it is, 

 and we can see the outline of some of the 

 nearer trees. Then he turns and walks 

 down the drive to an ancient gateway, under 

 which he passes and so out into the road. 

 Following the road for some hundred yards, 

 he turns to the right into a narrow lane 

 which leads abruptly down hill. Here he 

 has to pick his way carefully, for there are 

 many loose stones underfoot, and the morn- 

 ing light is not yet strong enough to show 

 him the dangers of his path. After he has 

 gone about a quarter of a mile along the 

 lane he comes to a gate on his left over 

 which he climbs into a field, wherein are 

 some sleepy bullocks who gaze at him with 

 wondering eyes. A few yards farther and 

 he is at the water-side. 



A belt of white mist still hangs over the 

 river, which flows beneath its level banks 

 noiseless, deep, and strong. On this side 

 grow rushes whose vivid green betokens that 

 their roots abide in no black fetid mud, but 

 in clean wholesome gravel. On the other 

 side grow bulrushes, and where they are 

 there is mud in plenty, cruel slimy mud 

 that year by year claims its hecatomb of 



