The Hampdenshire WonderBeresford, J. D. (John Davys)
Science
The Hampdenshire Wonder
Beresford, J. D. (John Davys)
Science fiction
In the night I awoke suddenly, and thought I heard a long, wailing
cry out on the Common. I got up and looked out of the window, but I
could see nothing. The rain was still falling, but there was a blur
of light that showed where the moon was shining behind the clouds. The
cry, if there had been a cry, was not repeated.
I went back to bed and soon fell asleep again.
I do not know whether I had been dreaming, but I woke suddenly with
a presentation of the little pond on the Common very clear before me.
"We never looked in the pond," I thought, and then--"but he could
not have fallen into the pond; besides, it's not two feet deep."
It was full daylight, and I got up and found that it was nearly
seven o'clock.
The rain had stopped, but there was a scurry of low, threatening
cloud that blew up from the south.
I dressed at once and went out. I made my way directly to the Stotts'
cottage.
The lamp was still burning and the door open, but Ellen Mary had
fallen forward on to the table; her head was pillowed on her arms.
"There is a limit to our endurance," I reflected, "and she has
reached it."
I left her undisturbed.
Outside I met two of Farmer Bates's labourers going back to work.
"I want you to come up with me to the pond," I said.
VI
The pond was very full.
On the side from which we approached, the ground sloped gradually,
and the water was stretching out far beyond its accustomed limits.
On the farther side the gorse among the trunks of the three ash-trees
came right to the edge of the bank. On that side the bank was three
or four feet high.
We came to the edge of the pond, and one of the labourers waded in
a little way--the water was very shallow on that side--but we could
see nothing for the scum of weed, little spangles of dirty green,
and a mass of some other plant that had borne a little white flower
in the earlier part of the year--stuff like dwarf hemlock.
Under the farther bank, however, I saw one comparatively clear space
of black water.
"Let's go round," I said, and led the way.
There was a tiny path which twisted between the gorse roots and came
out at the edge of the farther bank by the stem of the tallest ash. I
had seen tiny village boys pretending to fish from this point with a
stick and a piece of string. There was a dead branch of ash some five
or six feet long, with the twigs partly twisted off; it was lying among
the bushes. I remembered that I had seen small boys using this branch
to clear away the surface weed. I picked it up and took it with me.
I wound one arm round the trunk of the ash, and peered over into the
water under the bank.
I caught sight of something white under the water. I could not see
distinctly. I thought it was a piece of broken ware--the bottom of a
basin. I had picked up the ash stick and was going to probe the deeper
water with it. Then I saw that the dim white object was globular.
The end of my stick was actually in the water. I withdrew it quickly,
and threw it behind me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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