“He is pretty well to be trusted,” said his grandfather, “more especially as it would be difficult to get drowned there.”
“I would give a shilling to anyone who could drown himself there,” said Alex.
“The travelling man did,” exclaimed at once Carey, John, and Richard.
“Don’t they come in just like the Greek chorus?” said Beatrice, in a whisper to Fred, who gave a little laugh, but was too anxious to attend to her.
“I thought he was drowned in the river,” said Alex.
“No, it was in the deep pool under the weeping willow, where the duckweed grows so rank in summer,” said Carey.
Uncle Geoffrey laughed. “I am sorry to interfere with your romantic embellishments, Carey, or with the credit of your beloved pond, since you are determined not to leave it behindhand with its neighbours.”
“I always thought it was there,” said the boy.
“And thought wrong; the poor man was found in the river two miles off.”
“I always heard it was at Knight’s Pool,” repeated Carey.