your hand. He was swimming round to try and find out the reason of this
sudden stinting of room.

Twice he heaved himself somewhat on his side over a dead branch that was
at the bottom, and exhibited all his beauty to the air and sunshine.
Then he went away into another part of the shallow and was hidden by the
muddy water. Now under the arch of the bridge, his favourite arch, close
by there was a deep pool, for, as already mentioned, the scour of the
current scooped away the sand and made a hole there. When the stream was
shut off by the dam above this hole remained partly full. Between this
pool and the shallow under the beech there was sufficient connection for
the fish to move into it.

My only hope was that he would do so, and as some showers fell,
temporarily increasing the depth of the narrow canal between the two
pools, there seemed every reason to believe that he had got to that
under the arch. If now only that accursed pipe or main, or whatever
repair it was, could only be finished quickly, even now the trout might
escape! Every day my anxiety increased, for the intelligence would soon
get about that the brook was dammed up, and any pools left in it would
be sure to attract attention.

Sunday came, and directly the bells had done ringing four men attacked
the pool under the arch. They took off shoes and stockings and waded in,
two at each end of the arch. Stuck in the mud close by was an eel-spear.
They churned up the mud, wading in, and thickened and darkened it as
they groped under. No one could watch these barbarians longer.

Is it possible that he could have escaped? He was a wonderful fish, wary
and quick. Is it just possible that they may not even have known that a
trout was there at all; but have merely hoped for perch, or tench, or
eels? The pool was deep and the fish quick--they did not bale it, might
he have escaped? Might they even, if they did find him, have mercifully
taken him and placed him alive in some other water nearer their homes?
Is it possible that he may have almost miraculously made his way down
the stream into other pools?

There was very heavy rain one night, which might have given him such a
chance. These "mights," and "ifs," and "is it possible" even now keep
alive some little hope that some day I may yet see him again. But that
was in the early summer. It is now winter, and the beech has brown
spots. Among the limes the sedges are matted and entangled, the
sword-flags rusty;