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stopped and stood still, and even the thin whistle died away from his
lips as he watched a water vole run to and fro upon a little headland
across the stream. The vole plopped into the water and swam and dived
and only when the last ring of its disturbance had vanished did Mr.
Polly resume his thoughtful course to nowhere in particular.
For the first time in many years he had been leading a healthy human
life, living constantly in the open air, walking every day for eight
or nine hours, eating sparingly, accepting every conversational
opportunity, not even disdaining the discussion of possible work. And
beyond mending a hole in his coat that he had made while negotiating
barbed wire, with a borrowed needle and thread in a lodging house, he
had done no work at all. Neither had he worried about business nor
about time and seasons. And for the first time in his life he had seen
the Aurora Borealis.
So far the holiday had cost him very little. He had arranged it on a
plan that was entirely his own. He had started with four five-pound
notes and a pound divided into silver, and he had gone by train from
Fishbourne to Ashington. At Ashington he had gone to the post-office,
obtained a registered letter, and sent his four five-pound notes with
a short brotherly note addressed to himself at Gilhampton Post-office.
He sent this letter to Gilhampton for no other reason in the world
than that he liked the name of Gilhampton and the rural suggestion of
its containing county, which was Sussex, and having so despatched it,
he set himself to discover, mark down and walk to Gilhampton, and so
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