Cardigan

"Bring Cade along," said I, opening the garden gate, and gathering my rod and line lest the fly-hook catch in the rosebush; "and fetch the gaff, Jack, when you return."

But when he came again into the moonlit garden he came alone, swinging the bright steel gaff.

"Cade sleeps by the fire in the great hall," he said. "Truly, lad, we age apace, and the sly beast, Death, follows us, sniffing, as we go. Lord! Lord! How old we grow – how old, how old! All of us, save Lady Cardigan and you! Years freshen her."

"The years are kind," I said.

So we descended through the dusk to the sweet water flowing under the clustered stars.