Without another word, Dick stepped lightly from stone to stone till he reached the middle of the stream. There he halted and turned. Bella, not to be outdone, stepped after him on to the first stone and from that to the second; then all in a moment her courage seemed to desert her. ‘Dick, Dick, I shall slip into the water,’ she cried. ‘I know I shall.’
Dick grinned. He had been addressed as ‘Mr Dulcimer’ only a minute before. He went back and held out his hand, which Bella clutched without a moment’s demur. Having assisted her as far as the middle of the stream, he came to a stand.
‘Why don’t you go on?’ she demanded.
Dick ignored the question. ‘These stepping-stones, or others like them,’ he remarked didactically, ‘are said to have been here for hundreds of years. There is an old local rhyme in connection with them which is known to all the country-folk about. Listen while I recite to you that ancient rhyme.’
‘I am getting dizzy; I shall fall,’ remarked Bella, who, however, still kept tight hold of his hand.
Dick took no notice, but began:
‘Listen! listen! Every lass
That o’er these stepping-stones doth pass,
She shall clasp her sweetheart’s hand,
On the midmost stone shall stand,