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over the town; the next morning; that a fearful murder had been committed 

at Mr。 Jefferson's the night before; and would describe how they had 

heard the victim's shrieks and the brutal oaths and curses of the 

murderer; followed by the prayer for mercy; and the last dying gurgle of 

the corpse。



So they let him practise in the day…time; in the back…kitchen with all 

the doors shut; but his more successful passages could generally be heard 

in the sitting…room; in spite of these precautions; and would affect his 

mother almost to tears。



She said it put her in mind of her poor father (he had been swallowed by 

a shark; poor man; while bathing off the coast of New Guinea … where the 

connection came in; she could not explain)。



Then they knocked up a little place for him at the bottom of the garden; 

about quarter of a mile from the house; and made him take the machine 

down there when he wanted to work it; and sometimes a visitor would come 

to the house who knew nothing of the matter; and they would forget to 

tell him all about it; and caution him; and he would go out for a stroll 

round the garden and suddenly get within earshot of those bagpipes; 

without being prepared for it; or knowing what it was。  If he were a man 

of strong mind; it only gave him fits; but a person of mere average 

intellect it usually sent mad。



There is; it must be confessed; something very sad about the early 

efforts of an amateur in bagpipes。  I have felt that myself when 

listening to my young friend。  They appear to be a trying instrument to 

perform upon。  You have to get enough breath for the whole tune before 

you start … at least; so I gathered from watching Jefferson。



He would begin magnificently with a wild; full; come…to…the…battle sort 

of a note; that quite roused you。  But he would get more and more piano 

as he went on; and the last verse generally collapsed in the middle with 

a splutter and a hiss。



You want to be in good health to play the bagpipes。



Young Jefferson only learnt to play one tune on those bagpipes; but I 

never heard any complaints about the insufficiency of his repertoire … 

none whatever。  This tune was 〃The Campbells are Coming; Hooray … 

Hooray!〃 so he said; though his father always held that it was 〃The Blue 

Bells of Scotland。〃  Nobody seemed quite sure what it was exactly; but 

they all agreed that it sounded Scotch。



Strangers were allowed three guesses; and most of them guessed a 

different tune each time。



Harris was disagreeable after supper; … I think it must have been the 

stew that had upset him: he is not used to high living; … so George and I 

left him in the boat; and settled to go for a mouch round Henley。  He 

said he should have a glass of whisky and a pipe; and fix things up for 

the night。  We were to shout when we returned; and he would row over from 

the island and fetch us。



〃Don't go to sleep; old man;〃 we said as we started。



〃Not much fear of that while this stew's on;〃 he grunted; as he pulled 

back to the island。



Henley was getting ready for the regatta; and was full of bustle。  We met 

a goodish number of men we knew about the town; and in their pleasant 

company the time slipped by somewhat quickly; so that it was nearly 

eleven o'clock before we set off on our four…mile walk home … as we had 

learned to call our little craft by this time。



It was a dismal night; coldish; with a thin rain falling; and as we 

trudged through the dark; silent fields; talking low to each other; and 

wondering if we were going right or not; we thought of the cosy boat; 

with the bright light streaming through the tight…drawn canvas; of Harris 

and Montmorency; and the whisky; and wished that we were there。



We conjured up the picture of ourselves inside; tired and a little 

hungry; of the gloomy river and the shapeless trees; and; like a giant 

glow…worm underneath them; our dear old boat; so snug and warm and 

cheerful。  We could see ourselves at supper there; pecking away at cold 

meat; and passing each other chunks of bread; we could hear the cheery 

clatter of our knives; the laughing voices; filling all the space; and 

overflowing through the opening out into the night。  And we hurried on to 

realise the vision。



We struck the tow…path at length; and that made us happy; because prior 

to this we had not been sure whether we were walking towards the river or 

away from it; and when you are tired and want to go to bed uncertainties 

like that worry you。  We passed Skiplake as the clock was striking the 

quarter to twelve; and then George said; thoughtfully:



〃You don't happen to remember which of the islands it was; do you?〃



〃No;〃 I replied; beginning to grow thoughtful too; 〃I don't。  How many 

are there?〃



〃Only four;〃 answered George。  〃It will be all right; if he's awake。〃



〃And if not?〃 I queried; but we dismissed that train of thought。



We shouted when we came opposite the first island; but there was no 

response; so we went to the second; and tried there; and obtained the 

same result。



〃Oh!  I remember now;〃 said George; 〃it was the third one。〃



And we ran on hopefully to the third one; and hallooed。



No answer!



The case was becoming serious。 it was now past midnight。  The hotels at 

Skiplake and Henley would be crammed; and we could not go round; knocking 

up cottagers and householders in the middle of the night; to know if they 

let apartments!  George suggested walking back to Henley and assaulting a 

policeman; and so getting a night's lodging in the station…house。  But 

then there was the thought; 〃Suppose he only hits us back and refuses to 

lock us up!〃



We could not pass the whole night fighting policemen。  Besides; we did 

not want to overdo the thing and get six months。



We despairingly tried what seemed in the darkness to be the fourth 

island; but met with no better success。  The rain was coming down fast 

now; and evidently meant to last。  We were wet to the skin; and cold and 

miserable。  We began to wonder whether there were only four islands or 

more; or whether we were near the islands at all; or whether we were 

anywhere within a mile of where we ought to be; or in the wrong part of 

the river altogether; everything looked so strange and different in the 

darkness。  We began to understand the sufferings of the Babes in the 

Wood。



Just when we had given up all hope … yes; I know that is always the time 

that things do happen in novels and tales; but I can't help it。  I 

resolved; when I began to write this book; that I would be strictly 

truthful in all things; and so I will be; even if I have to employ 

hackneyed phrases for the purpose。



It WAS just when we had given up all hope; and I must therefore say so。  

Just when we had given up all hope; then; I suddenly caught sight; a 

little way below us; of a strange; weird sort of glimmer flickering among 

the trees on the opposite bank。  For an instant I thought of ghosts: it 

was such a shadowy; mysterious light。  The next moment it flashed across 

me that it was our boat; and I sent up such a yell across the water that 

made the night seem to shake in its bed。



We waited breathless for a minute; and then … oh! divinest music of the 

darkness! … we heard the answering bark of Montmorency。  We shouted back 

loud enough to wake the Seven Sleepers … I never could understand myself 

why it should take more noise to wake seven sleepers than one … and; 

after what seemed an hour; but what was really; I suppose; about five 

minutes; we saw the lighted boat creeping slowly over the blackness; and 

heard Harris's sleepy voice asking where we were。



There was an unaccountable strangeness about Harris。  It was something 

more than mere ordinary tiredness。  He pulled the boat against a part of 

the bank from which it was quite impossible for us to get into it; and 

immediately went to sleep。  It took us an immense amount of screaming and 

roaring to wake him up again and put some sense into him; but we 

succeeded at last; and got safely on board。



Harris had a sad expression on him; so we noticed; when we got into the 

boat。  He gave you the idea of a man who had been through trouble。  We 

asked him if anything had happened; and he said…



〃Swans!〃



It seemed we had moored close to a swan's nest; and; soon after George 

and I had gone; the female swan came back; and kicked up a row about it。  

Harris had chivied her off; and she had gone away; and fetched up her old 

man。  Harris said he had had quite a fight with these two swans; but 

courage and skill had prevailed in the end; and he had defeated them。



Half…an…hour afterwards they returned with eighteen other swans!  It must 

have been a fearful battle; so far as we could understand Harris's 

account of it。  The swans had tried to drag him and Montmorency out of 

the boat and drown them;

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