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 waterfowl broke the monotony of the surface. If therr was nothing else, even the rustling of the waving reed gave them something to think of, reminding them of stories of the drowned, or of fairy tales about supernatural beings, whose home is in the watery depths, and so inviting their fancies to make excursions into the ever beauteous regions of poetry.

Baron Edmund, too, was fond of passing by on horse back, generally taking the bridge of beams across the sluice, and then, turning to the right, followed the foot path under the slope towards the fields. But the ride over the bridge was always dangerous, and he had to take care not to mention it before his mother, if he wished to escape a scolding; but he depended on his horses and on his own skill in horsemanship, of which he was rather proud. He had only two horses, though he would have liked to possess at least ten; however, his lady-moth did not allow of more than two. His bay, Armida, and his brown, Raoul, were of no particular breed, but they were handsome animals to look at, of faultless build, and well trained. Armida was as gentle as a lamb; but Raoul sometimes took whims in his head, and was altogether more fiery, self-willed, and daring. He submitted pretty well to his master; but if the groom took him out for an airing, the ride often ended with a chastisement—not, of course, when the baron was by, for he was partial to Raoul. Otherwise, except when he was taken with one of his freaks of temper, even Raoul was a very well behaved horse for weeks together.

It was on a Friday towards the end of June, about two o’clock in the afternoon. The weather was as lovely as we are fond of fancying it, when, standing ruefully at our window on a wintry day, watching the cold wind blowing