’That’s right—very well done!’ he said, as she continued. ’Yes, but what’s the use when you have tried——’ She had scarcely got the words out when she suddenly found the line held tight—and tighter—she saw it cut its way through the water, up and towards the bank of the pool above—and down and down was the point of the rod pulled until it almost touched the stream. All this had happened in one wild second. ’Let the line go!—what are ye doing, lassie?’ he cried. The fact was that in her sudden alarm she had grasped both line and rod more firmly than ever; and in another half second the fish must inevitably have broken something. But this exclamation of his recalled her to her senses—she let the line go free—got up the rod—and then waited events—with her heart in her mouth. She had not long to wait. It very soon appeared to her as if she had hooked an incarnate flash of lightning; for there was nothing this beast did not attempt to do; now rushing down the narrow channel so close to the bank that a single out-jutting twig must have cut the line; now lashing on the edge of the shallows; twice jerking himself into the air; and then settling down in the deep pool, not to sulk, but to twist and tug at the line in a series of angry snaps. And always it was ’Oh, Ronald, what shall I do now?’ or ’Ronald, what will he do next?’ ’You’re doing well enough,’ said he placidly. ’But it will be a long fight; and ye must not let him too far down the stream, or he’ll take ye below the foot bridge. And don’t give him much line; follow him, rather.’ She was immediately called on to act on this advice; for with one determined, vicious rush, away went the salmon down the stream—she after him as well as her woman’s skirts would allow, and always and valorously she was keeping a tight strain on the pliant rod. Alas! all of a sudden her foot caught in a tuft of heather—down she went, prone, her arms thrown forward so that nothing could save her. But did she let go the rod? Not a bit! She clung to it with the one hand; and when Ronald helped her to her feet again, she had no thought of herself at all—all her breathless interest was centred on the salmon. Fortunately that creature had now taken to sulking, in a pool farther down; and she followed him, getting in the line the while. ’But I’m afraid you’re hurt,’ said he. ’No, no.’ Something was tickling the side of her face. She shifted the grip of the rod, and passed the back of her right hand across her ear; a brief glance showed her that her knuckles were stained with blood. But she took no further heed; for she had to get both hands on the rod again. ’She has pluck, that one,’ Ronald said to himself; but he said nothing aloud, he wanted her to remain as self-possessed as possible. ’And what if he goes down to the footbridge, Ronald?’ she said presently. ’But ye must not let him.’ ’But if he will go?’ ’Then ye’ll give me the rod and I’ll take it under the bridge.’