the fisher-maiden herself, was wondering what was
going to happen next, the whole situation of affairs was reversed in a
twinkling; the salmon suddenly turned and dashed away down-stream until
it was right at the end of the pool, and there, in deep water on the
other side, it resumed its determined tugging, so that the pliant top of
the rod was shaken as if by a human hand.

"That is what frightens me," she said to Lionel. "I don't like that at
all."

But what could he do to help her? Eager wishes were of no avail; and yet
he felt as if the crowning joy of his life would be to see that splendid
big fish safely out there on the bank. All his faculties seemed to be
absorbed in the contemplation of that momentous struggle. The past and
the future were alike cut off from him--he had forgotten all about the
theatre and its trumpery applause--he had no thought but for the unseen
creature underneath the water, that was dashing its head from side to
side, and then boring down, and then sailing away over to the opposite
shallows, exhausting every manoeuvre to regain its liberty. He could not
speak to her; what was anything he could say as compared with the
tremendous importance of the next movement on the part of the fish? But
she was calm enough.

"He doesn't tire himself much, Robert," she said. "He keeps all his
strength for that tugging."

But just as she spoke the salmon began to come into mid-stream again,
and she stepped a yard or two back, reeling in the line swiftly. Once or
twice she looked at the top of the rod: there was a faint strain on,
nothing more. Then her enemy seemed inclined to yield a little; she
reeled in still more quickly; knot after knot of the casting-line
gradually rose from the surface; at last they caught sight of a dull,
bronze gleam--the sunlight striking through the brown water on the side
of the fish. But he had no intention of giving in yet; he had only come
up to look about him. Presently he headed up-stream again--quietly and
steadily; then there was another savage shaking of his head and tugging;
then a sharp run and plunge; and again he lay deep, jerking to get this
unholy thing out of his jaw. Lionel began to wonder that any one should
voluntarily and for the sake of amusement undergo this frightful
anxiety. He knew that if he had possession of the rod, his hands would
be trembling; his breath would be coming short and quick; that a
lifetime of hope and fear would be crowded into every