Dick o' the Fens Part 8

"Now, then," cried the squire, coming quickly to the door, "Hickathrift and I are going in the big punt to see if we can help the Tallingtons; the stream isn't so strong now. Are you men going to try to help us?"

"Get Farmer Tallington out?" said Dave. "Ay, we are coming."

"Let me come too, father," cried d.i.c.k.

"No, my lad, I'm afraid I--"

"Don't say that, father; let me go."

"No no, d.i.c.k," cried Mrs Winthorpe, entering the kitchen, for she had been upon the alert. "You have run risks enough to-night."

"Yes; stay and take care of the women, d.i.c.k," said his father.

d.i.c.k gave an angry stamp on the floor.

"Mother wants me to grow up a coward," he cried. "Oh, mother, it's too bad!"

"But, d.i.c.k, my boy," faltered the poor woman.

"Let the boy come, wife," said the squire quietly; "I'll take care of him."

"Yes, and I'll take care of father," cried d.i.c.k, rushing at his mother to give her a sounding kiss, and with a sigh she gave way, and followed the party down to the water's edge.

CHAPTER FOUR.

A JOURNEY BY PUNT.

There was still a furious current running on the far side of the Toft, as, well provided with lanterns, the two punts pushed off. On the side where the two last comers landed it had seemed sluggish, for an eddy had helped them in; but as soon as they were all well out beyond the pines the stream caught them, the wind helped it, and their task was not to get towards Grimsey, but to r.e.t.a.r.d their vessels, and mind that they were not capsized by running upon a pollard willow, whose thin bare boughs rose up out of the water now and then, like the horrent hair of some marine monster which had come in with the flood from the sea.

"We've done wrong, Hickathrift," said the squire after they had been borne along by the current for some distance; "and I don't understand all this. I thought that when the tide had turned, the water would have flowed back again through the gap it must have broken, instead of still sweeping on."

"Ay," said the great wheelwright, who was standing in the bows with his long leaping-pole in his hand; "I do puzzle, squire. I've been looking out for a light to show where Grimsey lies, for here, in the dark, it's watter, watter, watter, and I can't see the big poplar by Tallington's.

Hi! Dave, where's Grimsey, thinks ta?" he shouted.

"Nay, I don't know."

"Can you make it out, John Warren?"

"Nay, lad, I'm 'bout bet."

"Then, squire, if they can't say, I can't. What shall we do?"

"We must wait for daylight," said the squire, after peering into the darkness ahead for some time. "We shall be swept far past it if we go on. Can you hold the punt with your pole?"

"Nay, no more'n you could a bull with a bit o' tar band, mester. We mun keep a sharp look-out for the next tree, and lay hold of the branches and stop there. D'ye hear, lads?"

"Aye, what is it?" came from the other boat.

"Look out for the next tree, and hing on till daylight."

Dave uttered a grunt, and they floated on and on for nearly a quarter of an hour before d.i.c.k uttered a loud "Look out!"

"I see her, my lad," cried Hickathrift; and he tried to give the boat a good thrust by means of his pole; but though he touched bottom it was soft peat, and his pole went down, and the next moment they were crashing through the top of a willow, with the boat tilting up on one side and threatening to fill; but just as the water began to pour in, there was a whishing and crackling noise as it pa.s.sed over the obstacle and swung clear, with Hickathrift holding on to a branch with all his might.

"Look out! Can you tek howd, lad?" came from the other boat, which came gliding out of the darkness, just clear of the tree.

As it came on, d.i.c.k caught the pole Dave held out to him and checked the progress of the little punt; but he had miscalculated his strength as opposed to the force of the current, and after a jerk, which seemed to be tearing his arms out of their sockets, he was being dragged out of the boat, and half over, when his father seized him round the hips.

"Can you hold on, d.i.c.k?" cried the squire.

"A--a little while," panted the lad.

"Get howd o' the pole, mester," shouted Warren from the other boat.

"I can't, man, without loosing the boy. We shall have to let you go."

"Let go, then," growled Dave; "we can find our way somehow."

"Nay," shouted Hickathrift. "Howd hard a minute till I've made fast here. I'm coming."

As he spoke he was busy holding on to the elastic willow branch with one hand, while with the other he drew the rope out of the boat's head, and, with a good deal of labour, managed to pa.s.s it round the bough and make it fast.

"There, she's all right," he cried, stepping aft carefully, the boat swaying beneath his huge weight. "Now, squire, I mun lean ower thee to get howd o' the pole. Eh! but it's a long way to reach, and--"

"Mind, man, mind!" cried the squire, "or we shall fill with water; we're within an inch now."

"Nay, we sha'n't go down," cried Hickathrift, straining right over the squire and d.i.c.k, and sinking the stern of the boat so far that his face kept touching the water, and he had to wrench his head round to speak.

"There, I've got howd o' the pole, and one leg hooked under the thwart.

Let go, Mester d.i.c.k; and you haul him aboard, squire, and get to the other end."

It needed cautious movement, for the boat was now so low that the water rushed over; but by exerting his strength the squire dragged d.i.c.k away, and together they relieved the stern of the pressure and crept forward.

"Now Dave, lad, haul alongside, and make your rope fast to the ring-bolt," cried Hickathrift; and this was done, the punt swung behind, and the great Saxon-like fellow sat up laughing.

"Is it all safe?" cried the squire.

"Ay, mester, so long as that bough don't part; but I've got my owd ear full o' watter, and it's a-roonning down my neck. But say, mester, it's a rum un."

"What is, my lad?"

"Why, it wur ony yesday I wur saying to my Jacob as we'd get the poont mended, and come out here with the handbills and brattle [lop] all the willows anywhere nigh, so as to hev a lot to throost down about our plaace to grow. Now, if we'd done that there'd ha' been no branch to lay hold on here, and we might ha' gone on to Spalding afore we'd stopped. Eh, but howding on theer made me keb."

[Keb: pant for breath.]

"Are you hurt, d.i.c.k?" said the squire.