firmness so is the redness, and as is the redness so is the shyness.”      

       “Marry why?” said brother Michael. “The solution is not physical-natural, but physical-historical, or natural-superinductive. And thereby hangs a tale, which may be either said or sung:     

  The damsel stood to watch the fight By the banks of Kingslea Mere, And they brought to her feet her own true knight Sore-wounded on a bier. She knelt by him his wounds to bind, She washed them with many a tear:  And shouts rose fast upon the wind, Which told that the foe was near.   “Oh! let not,” he said, “while yet I live, The cruel foe me take:  But with thy sweet lips a last kiss give, And cast me in the lake.”    Around his neck she wound her arms, And she kissed his lips so pale:  And evermore the war’s alarms Came louder up the vale. She drew him to the lake’s steep side, Where the red heath fringed the shore; She plunged with him beneath the tide, And they were seen no more. Their true blood mingled in Kingslea Mere, That to mingle on earth was fain:  And the trout that swims in that crystal clear Is tinged with the crimson stain. 

       “Thus you see how good comes of evil, and how a holy friar may fare better on fast-day for the violent death of two lovers two hundred years ago. The inference is most consecutive, that wherever you catch a red-fleshed trout, love lies bleeding under the water: an occult quality, which can only act in the stationary waters of a lake, being neutralised by the rapid transition of those of a stream.”      

       “And why is the trout shyer for that?” asked Sir Ralph.     

       “Do you not see?” said brother Michael. “The virtues of both lovers diffuse themselves through the lake. The infusion of masculine valour makes the fish active and sanguineous: the infusion of maiden modesty makes him coy and hard to win: and you shall find through life, the fish which is most easily hooked is not the best worth dishing. But yonder are the towers of Arlingford.”      

       The little friar stopped. He seemed suddenly struck with an awful thought, which caused a momentary pallescence in his rosy complexion; and after a brief hesitation, he turned his galloway, and told his companions he should give them good day.     

       “Why, what is in the wind now, 

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