Choosing, though without consciously intending to do so, the dreariest path to be found, I wandered up the side of the slow black river, with the sentinel pollards looking at themselves in its gloomy mirror, just as I was looking at myself in the mirror of my circumstances.  They leaned in all directions, irregular as the headstones in an ancient churchyard.  In the summer they looked like explosions of green leaves at the best; now they looked like the burnt-out cases of the summer’s fireworks.  How different, too, was the river from the time when a whole fleet of shining white lilies lay anchored among their own broad green leaves upon its clear waters, filled with sunlight in every pore, as they themselves would fill the pores of a million-caverned sponge!  But I could not even recall the past summer as beautiful.  I seemed to care for nothing.  The first miserable afternoon at Marshmallows looked now as if it had been the whole of my coming relation to the place seen through a reversed telescope.  And here I was in it now.

The walk along the side was tolerably dry, although the river was bank-full.  But when I came to the bridge I wanted to cross—­a wooden one—­I found that the approach to it had been partly undermined and carried away, for here the river had overflowed its banks in one of the late storms; and all about the place was still very wet and swampy.  I could therefore get no farther in my gloomy walk, and so turned back upon my steps.  Scarcely had I done so, when I saw a man coming hastily towards me from far upon the straight line of the river walk.  I could not mistake him at any distance.  It was Old Rogers.  I felt both ashamed and comforted when I recognized him.

“Well, Old Rogers,” I said, as soon as he came within hail, trying to speak cheerfully, “you cannot get much farther this way—­without wading a bit, at least.”

“I don’t want to go no farther now, sir.  I came to find you.”

“Nothing amiss, I hope?”

“Nothing as I knows on, sir.  I only wanted to have a little chat with you.  I told master I wanted to leave for an hour or so.  He allus lets me do just as I like.”

“But how did you know where to find me?”

“I saw you come this way.  You passed me right on the bridge, and didn’t see me, sir.  So says I to myself, ’Old Rogers, summat’s amiss wi’ parson to-day.  He never went by me like that afore.  This won’t do.  You just go and see.’  So I went home and told master, and here I be, sir.  And I hope you’re noways offended with the liberty of me.”

“Did I really pass you on the bridge?” I said, unable to understand it.

“That you did, sir.  I knowed parson must be a goodish bit in his own in’ards afore he would do that.”

“I needn’t tell you I didn’t see you, Old Rogers.”

“I could tell you that, sir.  I hope there’s nothing gone main wrong, sir.  Miss is well, sir, I hope?”

“Quite well, I thank you.  No, my dear fellow, nothing’s gone main wrong, as you say.  Some of my running tackle got jammed a bit, that’s all.  I’m a little out of spirits, I believe.”