“Oh! well caught, indeed! Well caught!”
Mitchell walked away from the wicket swinging his bat in a deprecating fashion. After all, one does not expect miracles even in cricket.
“Beautiful, beautiful ball!” thought Mendel, fondling it with his still tingling hands. “You came to me like a lark to its nest, and you shone so red against the sky, you shone so red, so red!”
His dissatisfaction vanished. The crowd was a nice beast after all. It was at his feet. At no one else had it shouted like that. . . . The woods were very beautiful, with the bracken nodding under the trees, and the branches swaying, and the soft winds murmuring through the leaves, through which the trees seemed to breathe and sigh and to envy the moving wind while they were condemned to stay and grow old in one spot. Very, very sweet were the green and yellow and blue lights hovering and swinging through the woods, dappling the trunks of the trees, weaving an ever-changing pattern on the carpet of moss and dead leaves, and the tufted bracken that sometimes almost looked like the sea, full of a life of its own. Surely, surely there were fish swimming in the bracken.
Starting out of his dreams, he saw Morrison at the wicket, very intent, with a stern expression on her face. He knew she was desperately anxious to score.
She was most palpably stumped with her second ball, but the umpire gave her “not out,” amid general applause, for she was a favourite.
She lashed out awkwardly at the next ball, which came on the leg side. It came towards Mendel at an incredible speed. He put his foot on it, picked it up, pretended it had passed him, and tore towards the trees in simulated pursuit; and he remained looking for it in the bracken while Morrison ran four, five, six, seven, eight, and just as some one cried “Lost ball!” he stooped, pretended to pick it up, and threw it back to the bowler.
He himself was bowled first ball, but, as it turned out, Morrison’s side won by three runs.
She was bubbling over with happiness, and after tea she came over to him and said:—
“I say, Kühler, that was a good catch.”