“There is a strong spring down there,” she said. “Is it not a dreadful place? Such a depth!”
“Yes,” I answered; “but it has not the horror of dirty water; it is as clear as crystal. How does the surplus escape?”
“On the opposite side of the hill you came up there is a well, with a strong stream from it into the river.”
“I almost wonder at your choosing such a place to read in. I should hardly like to be so near this pond,” said I, laughing.
“Judy has taken all that away. Nothing in nature, and everything out of it, is strange to Judy, poor child! But just look down a little way into the water on this side. Do you see anything?”
“Nothing,” I answered.
“Look again, against the wall of the pond,” she said.
“I see a kind of arch or opening in the side,” I answered.
“That is what I wanted you to see. Now, do you see a little barred window, there, in the face of the rock, through the trees?”
“I cannot say I do,” I replied.