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CHAPTER THREE

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    .Andtherivertoorunspast,notatflood,norswiftly,butcloyingtheoarthatdipsinitanddropswhitedropsfromtheblade,swimminggreenanddeepoverthebowedrushes,asiflavishlycaressingthem. Wheretheymooredtheirboatthetreesshowereddown,sothattheirtopmostleavestrailedintheripplesandthegreenwedgethatlayinthewaterbeingmadeofleavesshiftedinleaf-breadthsastherealleavesshifted.Nowtherewasashiverofwind—instantlyanedgeofskyandasDurrantatecherrieshedroppedthestuntedyellowcherriesthroughthegreenwedgeofleaves,theirstalkstwinklingastheywriggledinandout,andsometimesonehalf-bittencherrywouldgodownredintothegreen.ThemeadowwasonalevelwithJacob'seyesashelaybackgiltwithbuttercups,butthegrassdidnotrunlikethethingreenwaterofthegraveyardgrassabouttooverflowthetombstones,butstoodjuicyandthick.Lookingup,backwards,hesawthelegsofchildrendeepinthegrass,andthelegsofcows.Munch,munch,heheardthenashortstepthroughthegrassthenagainmunch,munch,munch,astheytorethegrassshortattheroots.Infrontofhimtwowhitebutterfliescircledhigherandhigherroundtheelmtree. "Jacob'soff,"thoughtDurrantlookingupfromhisnovel.Hekeptreadingafewpagesandthenlookingupinacuriouslymethodicalmanner,andeachtimehelookeduphetookafewcherriesoutofthebagandatethemabstractedly.Otherboatspassedthem,crossingthebackwaterfromsidetosidetoavoideachother,formanywerenowmoored,andtherewerenowwhitedressesandaflawinthecolumnofairbetweentwotrees,roundwhichcurledathreadofblue—LadyMiller'spicnicparty.Stillmoreboatskeptcoming,andDurrant,withoutgettingup,shovedtheirboatclosertothebank. "Oh-h-h-h,"groanedJacob,astheboatrocked,andthetreesrocked,andthewhitedressesandthewhiteflanneltrousersdrewoutlongandwaveringupthebank. "Oh-h-h-h!"Hesatup,andfeltasifapieceofelastichadsnappedinhisface. "They'refriendsofmymother's,"saidDurrant."SooldBowtooknoendoftroubleabouttheboat." AndthisboathadgonefromFalmouthtoSt.IvesBay,allroundthecoast.Alargerboat,aten-tonyacht,aboutthetwentiethofJune,properlyfittedout,Durrantsaid… "There'sthecashdifficulty,"saidJacob. "Mypeople'llseetothat,"saidDurrant(thesonofabanker,deceased). "Iintendtopreservemyeconomicindependence,"saidJacobstiffly.(Hewasgettingexcited.) "MymothersaidsomethingaboutgoingtoHarrogate,"hesaidwithalittleannoyance,feelingthepocketwherehekepthisletters. "WasthattrueaboutyourunclebecomingaMohammedan?"askedTimmyDurrant. JacobhadtoldthestoryofhisUncleMortyinDurrant'sroomthenightbefore. "Iexpecthe'sfeedingthesharks,ifthetruthwereknown,"saidJacob."Isay,Durrant,there'snoneleft!"heexclaimed,crumplingthebagwhichhadheldthecherries,andthrowingitintotheriver.HesawLadyMiller'spicnicpartyontheislandashethrewthebagintotheriver. Asortofawkwardness,grumpiness,gloomcameintohiseyes. "Shallwemoveon…thisbeastlycrowd…"hesaid. Souptheywent,pasttheisland. T
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