The dowser smiled.
"It does not seem so wonderful to me," he said. "I come of a family of dowsers. My father was one before me, and my grandfather, and I have a sister with the same gift, though I have but lately discovered my own power. There are a good many of us in the south-west of England—Wiltshire, Dorset, Cornwall; I am a Wilts man myself."
"Oh, indeed, sir," said Geo because he had nothing else to say.
"You do it professionally, I conclude, then?" said Mr. Barlow, inwardly quaking lest Mr. Wilman should demand an exorbitant fee.
"Dear me, no—not at all. I do it quite in an amateur way, just for the love of it. A man must sometimes help his fellow-creatures. I am not a rich man. I can't do much in the way of money, but having this gift, I occasionally make use of it. I was taking a holiday just now. I am on a motor car with a friend, and we are stopping a few days in your neighbourhood. I heard of your difficulties, as I think I mentioned at your meeting, and saw my opportunity for indulging in my hobby. When I am at home I am a very busy man, Mr. Barlow. I am sub-agent to Lord Atherthy."
"Indeed, sir, indeed," said Mr. Barlow, with considerable relief and a palpable increase of respect. "And I'm sure it is very kind of you. We are as a parish immensely indebted to you; at least, ahem, we shall be when—-"
"When I find the water, eh? Well, I am not content with this place. I am rested now; I think we'll go on.—You, young man," addressing Geo, "can come alongside if you like, but not too near. Keep, like Mr. Barlow, a few paces behind me."
So once more the procession moved on, and the dowser, after walking perhaps some hundred yards away from the place where he professed to have discovered a spring, took up his rod in his accustomed way and strode on.