strap of his creel over his head and
emptied the contents on to the grass.

"Five," he said, counting. They knelt beside the golden trout and laid
them in a row. "I could have taken more," he added, "but that's all we
want for breakfast. Besides, it was too nice an evening to go on
killing things.... Sort of peaceful. That's a nice one, though, that
pounder. He fancied a coachman..." The India-rubber Man straightened
up and sniffed the evening air aromatic with the scent of burning wood.
"And I've got a sort of feeling I could fancy something, Bet----"

Betty rose too. "It's ready," she said. "I've put the table in the
hollow behind the bush. I've got a surprise for you--'will you walk
into my parlour? said the spider to the fly.'"

She led the way into the hollow. A brazier of burning logs stood on
the side nearest the river, with a saucepan simmering upon it. Close
under the wild-rose bush was a folding table covered with a
blue-and-white cloth laid in readiness for a meal, with a camp stool on
either side. From an overhanging branch dangled a paper Japanese
lantern, glowing in the blue dusk like a jewel.

"You're a witch, Betty," said the India-rubber Man. "Where did you get
the lantern?"

"At that village we passed through yesterday. It was a surprise for
you!" She made a little obeisance on the threshold of their star-lit
dining-room. "Will it please my lord to be seated?" she asked
prettily, and bending down busied herself amid the ashes underneath the
brazier. "There's grilled trout and stewed bunny-rabbit," she added,
speaking over her shoulder.

"Good enough," said her lord. "Sit down, Bet, I'm going to do the
waiting." Betty laughed. "I don't mind this sort of waiting," she
replied. "It's the other kind that grew so wearisome."

They made their meal while a bat, attracted by the white cloth,
flickered overhead, and the shadows closed in round them, deepening
into night. When the last morsel of food had vanished the India-rubber
Man turned sideways on his stool to light a pipe, and by the light of
the match they stared at one another with a sudden fresh realisation of
their present happiness and the fullness thereof.

"Isn't it good?" said Betty. "Isn't it worth almost anything to have
this peace?" She made a little gesture, embracing the scented quiet.
"And just us two ... alone."

The India-rubber Man tossed the match on to the turf where it burned
steadily in a little cir