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A strong blanket was ready, and Captains Carvil, Fitzherbert, Hanmer, and Rodney, led by Captain Ouseley and assisted by as many others as could find room, seizing the sides, in a very few moments Mr. Mayor was revolving and bumping, rising and falling, as though he were no weight at all.
But let Carvil, who must be the youngest, go on with his story first; I will follow; and Phillips shall bring up the rear." Carvil, after making a few excuses that were not suffered to avail him, commenced his narration, which we will head "I call myself a woodsman, and a pretty good one, now; but, four years ago, I was almost any thing else but one of any kind.
We had to clear out and none too soon. But this time I've a chum waiting for me in London, and besides..." Bessie Carvil was breathing quickly. "What if I tried a knock at the door?" he suggested. "Try," she said.
For all one could tell, he had recovered already from the disease of hope; and only Miss Bessie Carvil knew that he said nothing about his son's return because with him it was no longer "next week," "next month," or even "next year." It was "to-morrow." In their intimacy of back yard and front garden he talked with her paternally, reasonably, and dogmatically, with a touch of arbitrariness.
"Don't crow yet, especially over the failure of what I didn't undertake: you or Mr. Carvil was to furnish the big trout, you will recollect." "That has been attended to by me, to the satisfaction of the company, I rather think," remarked Carvil, now advancing towards the bank with the rest. "Not only one big trout, but two more with it, was drawn in by my method, on the way."
Miss Carvil would say nothing to this she only shook her head negatively.
Leaving the game in charge of Claud and Carvil, who volunteered to dress it, the rest of the company walked up with the hunter to the spot where the new shanty was in progress, wishing to hear his opinion of the location selected, and the plan on which it had been commenced.
Carvil, and father, will agree to an exchange of boat companions for the afternoon, I should like to go with him. I have chosen him my schoolmaster in hunting, and I should have a chance for another lesson before we go into the separate fields of our approaching operations."
My illness deprived me of that pleasure last summer, you know, husband mine." "Yes," said he, with kindling enthusiasm, "we will go, Fluella. I want to see the good old chief; I want to enjoy the visit I have promised me from my friend Carvil; I want to hear Phillips discourse on woodcraft, and Chanticleer Codman wake the echoes of the lakes by his marvellous crowing.
Carvil is a Green Mountain boy, who loves hunting, partly for the health it gives, and partly for the fun of it. His old range has usually been round the Great Megantic, the other side of the highlands, in Canada, where I have heard of him through the St. Francis Indians. But, having a mind to see and try this side, he came on a few days ago, inquired me out, and turned in with me.
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