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"Yes, I think I did," said the squire. "Good-night!"
"Don't you think some one ought to sit up with Mr Marston?"
"No: he is sleeping like a top; and after our bad time with him yesternight, I mean to have some sleep."
Five minutes after, the squire's nose proclaimed that it was the hour of rest, and d.i.c.k heard it as he stole from his bed-room, to see how the wounded man was; and this act he repeated at about hourly intervals all through the night, for he could not sleep soundly, his mind was so busy with trouble about the injury to their visitor's arm, and the wonder which kept working in his brain. Who was it fired that shot?
The doctor was right; the wounded man's arm soon began to mend; but naturally there was a period when he was unable to attend to his duties, and that period was a pleasant one for d.i.c.k Winthorpe, inasmuch as it was the commencement of a long friendship.
John Marston was for going back to his lodgings near the outfall or _gowt_ as it was termed; but the squire and Mrs Winthorpe would not hear of it, and to the boys' great delight, he stayed.
He was an invalid, but the right kind of invalid to make a pleasant companion, for he loved the open air, and was never happier than when he was out with the boys and Dave or John Warren, somewhere in the fen.
"It's all gammon to call him ill, and for the doctor to keep coming,"
said Tom Tallington.
"Oh, he is ill!" said d.i.c.k; "but you see he's only ill in one arm."
d.i.c.k had only to propose a run out, and John Marston immediately seemed to forget that he was a man, became a boy for the time being, and entered into the spirit of their pursuits.
One day it was pike-fishing, with Dave to punt them about here and there among the pools. At another time ordinary tackle would be rigged up, and Dave would take them to some dark hole where fish were known to swarm, and for hours the decoy-man would sit and watch patiently while the three companions pulled up the various denizens of the mere.
One bright April morning Dave was seen coming out of the mist, looking gigantic as he stood up in his boat; and his visit was hailed with delight, for the trio had been wondering how they should pa.s.s that day.
"Morning, Dave!" said Marston as the fen-man landed slowly from his boat, and handed d.i.c.k a basket of fresh ducks' eggs.
"Morn', mester! Tak them up to the missus, Mester d.i.c.k. They be all noo-laid uns. Straange thick haar this morn," he continued, wiping the condensed mist from his eyelashes. "Re'glar sea-haar." [sea-fog--mist from the German Ocean.]
"Take those eggs up to mother, Tom," said d.i.c.k imperatively.
"Sha'n't. I know! You want to be off without me."
"Hallo, young fellow!" said the squire cheerily. "What have you got there--eggs?"
"Yes, mester, fresh uns for the missus."
"I'm going in, and I'll take them," said the squire, thus disposing of the difficulty about a messenger. "There's a canister of powder for you, Dave, when you want some more."
"Thanky kindly, mester. I'll come and get it when I'm up at house."
The squire nodded and went on, but turned back to ask when Mr Marston was going over to the works, and upon hearing that it was in the afternoon, he said he would accompany him.
"And how's your lame arm, mester?" said Dave as soon as the squire had gone.
"Getting better fast, Dave, my man."
"And with two holes in it, mester?"
"Yes, with two holes in it."
"But are they both getting better?"
"Why, you've been told a dozen times over that they are!" cried d.i.c.k.
"Nay, Mester d.i.c.k, I know'd as one hole was getting reight, but Mester Marston here nivver said as both weer. I'm straange and glad. Heered aught yet 'bout him as did it?"
"No, my man, and don't want to."
"Hark at that, Mester d.i.c.k! Why, if any one had shot at me, and hot me as they did him, I'd have found him out somehow afore now. Mebbe I shall find this out mysen."
"Why, you're not trying, Dave."
"Not trying, lad! Nay, but I am, and I shall find him yet some day.
Look here, boys. If you want to find out anything like that, you mustn't go splashing about among the reeds, or tug-slugging through the bog-holes, or he hears you coming, and goos and hides. You must sit down among the bushes, and wait and wait quiet, like a man does when he wants to get the ducks, and by-and-by him as did it comes along. Dessay I shall catch him one of these days, and if I do, and I've got my pole with me, I'll throost him under water and half-drownd him."
"Never mind about all that, Dave. What are you going to do to-day?"
cried d.i.c.k.
"Me, lad! Oh, nowt! I've brote a few eggs for the missus, and I shall tak' that can o' powder back wi' me, and then set down and go on makkin soom new coy-nets."
"That's his gammon, Mr Marston," cried d.i.c.k.
"Nay, nay, mester, it's solemn truth."
"'Tisn't; it's gammon. Isn't it, Tom?"
"Every bit of it. He's come on purpose to ask us to go out with him."
"Nay, nay, nay, lads," said Dave in an ill-used tone. "I did think o'
asking if Mester Marston here would like to try for some eels up in the long shallows by Popley Watter, for they be theer as thick as herrin', bubblin' up and slithering in the mud."
"Let's go, then, Mr Marston. Eel-spearing," cried d.i.c.k.
"But I could not use an eel-spear," said the young engineer, smiling.
"But Tom and I could do the spearing, and you could put the eels in the basket."
"When you caught them," said Marston, laughing.
"Oh, we should be sure to catch some! Shouldn't we, Dave?"
"Ay, theer's plenty of 'em, mester."
"Let's go, then," cried d.i.c.k excitedly; "and if we get a whole lot, we'll take them over to your men, Mr Marston. Come on!"
"Nay, but yow weant," said Dave, with a dry chuckle.
"Why not?"