260 AN ANGLER'S SEASON 



an obleegment frae the ye ken wha, Sir, 

 as I said before." 



By this time the Spectre was Itself 

 beginning to settle my concern. It had 

 stopped, and had turned ; but, instead of 

 making to come back again, It moved 

 slowly off into the meadow. Ten or 

 twelve yards from the water, It stooped ; 

 slowly and as if with effort pulled Itself 

 erect ; moved a few steps ; then gradually, 

 legs-first, vanished. As far as mortal 

 eyes could tell, It had, with notable 

 leisureliness, sunk into the earth. 



The process of disappearance, somehow, 

 was more disquieting than aught that had 

 befallen. 



I had no remark to make. 



John, at my elbow, sighed with relief. 



The salmon leapt ; splashed about on 

 the surface for a few seconds ; and 

 bolted up the river. 



My host was scrambling down the 

 hillock at our back. He had caught two 

 fish, he said, and had sent his gillie home 

 with them. Why had I stayed there so 



