26 GOLDEN DAYS 



and in the rays of the carriage lamp 

 they regarded its interior of gleaming fish 

 and kingcups, all exclaiming and talking 

 at once. " \'\'hat a bag, par example" 

 Ah ! 1 had given up the fly after all. 

 Jean Pierre chuckled and climbed after 

 me on to the back seat. So we started 

 up the hill, a convivial party, the two in 

 front twitting me on my good fortune 

 with the lobworm, while I repeatedly 

 disclaimed the use of anything but a 

 small black fly. There was something 

 disquieting, however, in my own reflec- 

 tions, for my golden stream was still a 

 secret. No matter, this could all be 

 explained later. "We had now reached 

 the crest of the hill, and here, on the rim 

 of the landes, as if by common consent, 

 we lapsed from monosyllables into silence, 

 tucking our rugs more closely about our 

 knees. The world of stillness around us 

 was punctuated only by the rhythmic 

 beat of the horses' hoofs as the long road 

 slipped ever past us ; but we still had 

 many miles to go. Wise Jean Pierre 

 had, I thought, already fallen asleep, 

 and I settled down comfortably into my 



