It is an island of gravelly limestone, surrounded by a sea of bog, soft as sponge and full of water, on which I should not have ventured, although I knew the course to take, but for my present peril. For nine months of the year, Lindholme was then as much cut off from the rest of the world as if it had been a lonely rock in mid-ocean, for ever beaten by stormy waves. In the winter it was accessible by flat-bottomed boats, and during a hard frost one might walk over, or go on skates. The islet is about three-quarters of a mile long and an eighth of a mile wide. Toward the northern end it rises into a small hill, near the foot of which there is a spring of clear, sweet water. How it comes to pass that there is such a spring, when all the water in the bog around it is as brown as October ale, I do not understand. At the time of which I write, a grove of oaks grew north of the hill, and a pretty thick plantation of willows and alders occupied the southern tongue of the island. The hermit inhabited a stud-bound house with three rooms, roughly but curiously furnished. A little way off stood a row of buildings—three low hovels of stone and half a dozen wooden huts of different sizes. Here lived the hermit's servants—a man and his wife and their son, a big lad of sixteen or seventeen years of age. Here, too, were kept the hermit's farm-stock—a small bull and four cows, a dozen sheep, and a large number of poultry.
Bland, or rather his man and boy, cultivated abut one half of the soil of his domain with plough and spade, getting amazingly heavy crops of corn and pulse.
The hermit was of middle stature, perhaps five feet eight inches, strongly built, not remarkable but for his face, which was strangely irregular, as though it had not been finished in the making. His nose was not to be described as Roman, or aquiline, or by any term commonly used in speaking of that feature. A child might make one like it in modelling a face in clay. His mouth was large, the lower lip hanging. The eyebrows projected far over his eyes, which had a peculiar look, due, as one found on close observation, to the fact that the pupil of one was of a bluish grey and that of the other almost black. His abundant dark hair and great beard were streaked with silver.
Rumour assigned various causes for his lonely life, as that he had been crossed in love; that he had been betrayed by a friend; that he had sold himself to the devil. I had made acquaintance with him on Messic Mere one day, when we happened to meet as both of us were fishing for pike, and we fell into anglers' talk. He asked me to his house, promising me rare sport in fowling, and he made good his word during a week which I spent with him. We were much too busy by day, and sometimes by night, for discourse on anything but our sport, and, when not so engaged, we were too sleepy for conversation, so I knew no more of him than that he was an accomplished sportsman, and, as one saw by his fields and barn and stacks and livestock, a good farmer, though his way of doing things was new and strange to me.
As I now drew near the hermitage, the dogs rushed out, a mastiff and a nondescript more like a lurcher than any breed I knew. At first, they came on furiously, but quickly knew me and changed their fierceness for welcoming bark. Bland came to his door, seeming surprised by their friendliness to a stranger, but he too knew me as soon as I spoke, and received me with all kindness. He looked with some curiosity at my plaistered face and marshman's attire, but he asked no question, making me welcome to share his evening meal. I judged it best to tell him I had fled from pursuit, and that a price was set on my head, and a ban laid on any one who might aid and harbour me. He laughed a loud, sharp laugh, which scarcely changed his countenance.
"You are none the less welcome for all that," said he. "Here we defy the mad world's law. Eat your supper, and afterwards you shall tell me as much as you choose."
When my host had heard the reason of my flight, he again assured me of my welcome.
"Stay with me as long as suits you—the longer the better, so far as I am concerned. Now that our work of harvesting is over, I am free to enjoy myself in your company all day long, and what sport Lindholme can give you already know."
Thanking my cordial host, I settled down to life in Lindholme, until it might be possible to make a dash for freedom and safety abroad.
On the Wednesday, Bland would not hear of my venturing to Messic Mere, as I had engaged to do, but he went himself and brought John Drury to Lindholme, and conducted him to the Mere again in the evening.