'You must go back to her, Brenda,' he said, 'and tell her that Admiral Wylie is dead. I found him in a whirlpool about half a mile above here.'
'When was that?' asked the girl mechanically.
'Oh, an hour ago. I have been all this time in the water recovering ... getting him ashore.'
'Was he quite dead?'
'Quite dead. It must have happened early in the day, for his lunch was still in his creel.'
'Where is he ... now?' whispered Brenda, looking through the trees from which Trist had emerged.
'Through there, on the bank. I began carrying him down to the boat, but had to give it up.'
She said nothing, but moved a step or two towards the spot indicated. Then he took her hand within his and led the way. Presently they came out of the thicker wood on to the rocky ground near the river, and soon afterwards came into sight of a still form lying on the turf beneath Trist's waterproof. There were stones on the corners of the mackintosh to prevent it being blown away, but the wind penetrated between them and the stuff rippled with a slight sound. The upper part of the body only was covered, and there was, in the wet waders and misshapen brogues, a suggestion of simple pride. In bad weather the Admiral had always fished in an old black sou'-wester, and this lay by his side with his creel and rod. The old sportsman had died in harness, with the quick burr-r-r of the reel sounding in his ears and a 'taut line' bending his rod; for Trist found the gut broken.
The man who had looked on death so often, who had slept amidst the groans of the dying and the heartrending cries of the sore-wounded, now knelt and simply drew back the covering from the still gray face. Death was so familiar to him that the sight of it brought no shock, and he scarcely realized what he was doing. Mechanically Brenda knelt down on the turf, her dress touching the dead man's hand. For some moments she remained thus, while the rosy light of dawn crept down the mountain side. Behind her stood Trist, silently watching. Presently he looked round and noted the increase of daylight; then he touched her shoulder.
'Come, Brenda,' he said. 'The day is breaking. We must go. I will walk back with you to the boat.'