Page 16 of Mr Collins in Love
“Ain’t going that far.Fact, we’re nearly there.”He paused and turned to me.“Close your eyes.”
“But why?”
“You’ll see.”
I greatly disliked surprises.I preferred the earliest apprehension of facts so I had time to consider them and decide upon the most appropriate response.But Jem was smiling and holding out his hand.I would not have done it for anyone else in the world, but for him I closed my eyes and reached.
His hand was huge and hot and hard as horn.My own lay damp within it so it felt we were joined by a melting ball of wax.The sensation was such that I wanted both to pull away and to have him hold me like that forever, but he led me but half a dozen paces and let go, saying, “Now just you take a glim at thissen.”
A slender pool lay at our feet, four or five yards across at the widest point and perhaps half as deep.A huge old willow grew upstream and in narrowing to flow around this giant, the water had carved out this trough for itself before flowing on.All was in shade but for a dappling of gold and a single ray of sunlight which passed through the willow’s branches and pierced the water like a coppery sword.
“Why, it’s beautiful.”My voice was hushed for this felt a secret place.“I never knew there was a pool here.”
“Don’t nobody know, excepting a fox and a little old urchin.Saw a deer once.”
The water flowed with barely a murmur, its movement betrayed only by dimples and swirls, and the occasional submerged leaf gliding by.Sweat dripped down my forehead and I wiped it with my handkerchief.I longed to take off my shoes and stockings and bathe my hot feet.
“Could we sit down, do you think?”I said.
“Your land.Reckon we may do as we please.”
I found a fallen tree that lay a few feet back from the poolside and perched upon it.Jem threw himself down into the undergrowth, grinning at me from its depths, fern fronds dancing about his face.Above us, the sky was a lattice of gold and green and blue.
“‘Spikenard and saffron; calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense’,” I said.“And a ‘well of living waters’ too.”
“Living waters, aye.”
“Song of Solomon.Four fourteen.And a bit of four fifteen.”
“Aye.Ain’t twigged yet, have you?”
“Haven’t…what?”
“Why I brung you here.”
“You wanted to show me the pool.”
“Aye.”He waved a dismissive hand.“Guess again.”
“You…something about irrigation for the garden?We could dig channels.I don’t know though, Jem.It’s quite low-lying.We’d need a pump.”
“Go on with you!”He gave a short laugh.“Brought you here to bathe.”
“Bathe?”I felt my eyes grow round.The pool was large enough, just about, but surely a score of farmers’ wives and their daughters could be thronging the thicket even now.I glanced about.Of course, there was no one.Just the trees.“I can’t bathe.”
“Why not?”Jem asked.“Always used in summertime.”
“We were children.Boys.”
He looked at me steadily.“Ain’t deep.Won’t drown.”
“It’s not that.I’m therector.”
“Parsons don’t bathe?”He lifted his eyebrows in obvious disbelief.
“Someone might see.”
“Who?”He looked around, making it clear there was no one.“Excepting maybe old Master Tod.”
