“Let him sit till I see him,” cried the captain, cocking both his barrels; “now I am ready. Where the devil is he?” “She can’t run away,” answered Bonny, “because your honour’s heel be on her whiskers. Ah, there her gooth! Quick, your honour!” And go she did in spite of his honour, and both the loads he sent after her; while the Rector laughed so at the captain’s plight, that it was quite impossible for him to shoot. The keeper also put on an experienced grin, while Bonny flung open all the cavern of his mouth. “Run after him, boy! Look alive!” cried the captain. “I defy him to go more than fifty yards. You must all have seen how I peppered him.” “Ay, and salted her too, I believe,” said the parson: “look along the barrel of my gun, and you will see the salt still on her tail, Steenie?” As he pointed they all saw the gallant hare at a leisurely canter crossing the valley, some quarter of a mile below them. “What!” cried the Rector; “did you see that jump? What can there be to jump over there?” For puss had made a long bound from bank to bank, at a place where they could not see the bottom. “Water, if ’e plaize, sir,” answered Bonny; “a girt strame of water comed down that hollow, all of a sudden this mornint; and it hath been growing stronger ever since.” “Good God!” exclaimed Mr. Hales, dropping his gun. “What is the water like, boy?” “I never seed no water like it afore. As black as what I does your boots with, sir; but as clear--you can see every stone in it.” “Then the Lord have mercy on this poor parish; and especially to the old house of Lorraine! For the Woeburn has broken out again.” “Why, Rector, you seem in a very great fright,” said Captain Chapman, recovering slowly from his sad discomfiture. “What is the matter about this water? Some absurd old superstition--is not it?” “Superstition or not,” Mr. Hales answered shortly, “I must leave you to shoot by yourself, Captain Chapman. I could not fire another shot to-day. It is more than three hundred and fifty years since this water of death was seen. In my church you may read what happened then. And not only that, but according to tradition its course runs directly through our village, and even through my garden. My people know nothing about it yet. It may burst upon them quite suddenly. There are many obstructions, no doubt, in its course, and many hollow places to fill up. But before many hours it will reach us. As a question of prudence, I must hasten home. Shot, come to heel this moment!” “You are right,” said the captain; “I shall do the same. Your hospitable board will excuse me to-night. I would much rather not leap the Woeburn in the dark.” With the instinct of a man of the world, he perceived that the Rector, under this depression, would prefer to have no guest. Moreover, the clouds were gathering with dark menace over the hill-tops; and he was not the man--if such man there be--to find pleasure in a wet day’s shooting.