Page 476 - sons-and-lovers

it was nearly out. All kept perfectly still. The men turned
again to their fishing, stood over the grey glinting river
like statues. Clara went with bowed head, flushing; he was
laughing to himself. Directly they passed out of sight be-
hind the willows.
‘Now they ought to be drowned,’ said Paul softly.
Clara did not answer. They toiled forward along a tiny
path on the river’s lip. Suddenly it vanished. The bank was
sheer red solid clay in front of them, sloping straight into
the river. He stood and cursed beneath his breath, setting
his teeth.
‘It’s impossible!’ said Clara.
He stood erect, looking round. Just ahead were two islets
in the stream, covered with osiers. But they were unat-
tainable. The cliff came down like a sloping wall from far
above their heads. Behind, not far back, were the fishermen.
Across the river the distant cattle fed silently in the deso-
late afternoon. He cursed again deeply under his breath. He
gazed up the great steep bank. Was there no hope but to
scale back to the public path?
‘Stop a minute,’ he said, and, digging his heels sideways
into the steep bank of red clay, he began nimbly to mount.
He looked across at every tree-foot. At last he found what he
wanted. Two beech-trees side by side on the hill held a little
level on the upper face between their roots. It was littered
with damp leaves, but it would do. The fishermen were per-
haps sufficiently out of sight. He threw down his rainproof
and waved to her to come.
She toiled to his side. Arriving there, she looked at him