CHAPTER THREE.
A STORMY NIGHT.
It was a tremendous blast which came sweeping over the sea, and quitechecked the progress of the travellers for the moment, but they pressedon, seeming to go right through the squall, and trudging along sturdilytowards home.
"I begin to wish someone had put a light in the window for us, Dick,"said the squire at the end of a few minutes' walking. "It's gettingterribly dark."
Dick said, "Yes," and thought of the thread, but he made no allusion toit, only laughed to himself and tramped on.
"By the way, how uneasy that dog seemed!" said the squire as theytrudged on with heads bent, for they were facing the blast now.
"Yes, father; we passed a fox."
"Passed a fox! Why, you couldn't see a fox a dark night like this."
"No, but I could smell him, father, and we heard him catch a duck."
"Ah! I see. And did the dog scent out the fox?"
"Yes, I think so, and that made him whine."
"Come along, my lad. Let's get on as fast as we can. It's growingblacker, and I'm afraid we shall have some rain."
No rain fell, but the sky was completely clouded over and the darknessseemed to grow more and more intense. The wind kept increasing inviolence and then dying out, as if it came in huge waves which sweptover them and had a great interval between, while as the rush and roarof the gusts passed there came the deep hoarse murmur of the distantsea.
"Dick," said the squire suddenly, "you are so young that you can hardlyfeel with me, but I want someone to talk to now, and I may as well tellyou that I am going to risk a great deal of money over the draining ofthe fen."
"Are you, father?"
"Yes, my lad, and I have been feeling a natural shrinking from the risk.To-night sweeps all that away, for in spite of having lived here somany years as I have, I never before felt how needful it all was."
"Do you think so, father?"
"Indeed I do, my lad, for anything more risky than our walk to-night Ihardly know. What's that?"
The squire stopped short and grasped his son's arm, as, after a furiousgust of wind, the distant murmur of the sea seemed to have beenoverborne by something different--a confused lapping, trickling, andrushing noise that seemed to come from all parts at once.
"I don't know, father," said Dick, who was slightly startled by hisfather's manner. "Shall we go on?"
"Yes," said the squire hoarsely. "Let's get home quick."
They started on again, walking fast, but at the end of a minute Dickuttered a cry.
"We're off the road, father. Water!"
As he spoke he was ankle-deep, and in taking a step to catch his son'sarm, Squire Winthorpe felt the water splash up around him.
"Can you see the lights at the Priory, Dick?" he said sharply.
"No, father."
"We can't be off the path," said the squire. "Is it boggy and softunder you?"
"No, father--hard; but I'm in the water."
"It's hard here too," said the squire, trying the ground with his feet;"and yet we must be off the road. Stand fast, my boy; don't move."
"Are you going away, father?" said Dick.
"No, only a few yards, boy. I want to see where we got off the track,whether it's to the right or left."
"It's so dark," said Dick, "I can hardly see my hand. Mind how you go,father; there are some deep bog-holes about here."
"Then you stand fast, my boy."
"Hadn't you better stand fast too, father?"
"And both perish in the wet and cold, my boy! No. I'll soon find theroad. It must be close by."
Not a tree or post to guide him, nothing but the thick darkness on allsides, as Squire Winthorpe cautiously moved one foot before the other,keeping one upon solid ground while he searched about with the other,and as he moved _splash_--_splish_--_splash_, the water flew, strikingcold to his legs, and sending a chill of dread to his very heart.
"It's very strange," he cried; "but don't be frightened, Dick. We shallbe all right directly."
"I'm not frightened, father," replied the boy. "I'm puzzled."
"And so am I, my lad, for I did not know we could find such solid bottomoff the road. Ah!"
"What's the matter, father?"
"I told you not to move, sir," roared the squire, for he had heard aslight splash on his right.
"I couldn't help it, father; my foot seemed to slip, and--why, here'sthe road!"
"There?" cried the squire eagerly.
"Yes, father, and my foot's slipped down into a big rut."
"Are you sure, boy?"
"Sure! Yes, father, it _is_ the road. I say, what does it mean?"
The answer was a quick splashing sound, as Squire Winthorpe hurried tohis son's side and gripped his arm, to stand there for a few momentslistening and thinking as he realised the meaning of the strangerushing, plashing noise that came from all round.
"I know," cried Dick suddenly; "the sea-bank's broke, and we're going tohave a flood."
"Yes," said the squire hoarsely; "the bank has gone, my boy."
"Hadn't we better push on, father, before it gets any deeper?"
"Stop a moment, Dick," said the squire, "and let me try to think.Home's safe, because the Priory's on the Toft; but there's Tallingtonand his wife and boy. We must try and help them."
"Come on, then, father!" cried Dick excitedly.
"No, Dick, that will not do; we shall only be shutting ourselves up tooand frightening your mother to death. We must get home and then on toHickathrift's. He has a big punt there."
"Yes, father, but it hasn't been mended. I saw it this afternoon."
"Then he has wood, and we must make a raft. Come on. Here: your hand."
For a few minutes there was nothing heard but the rushing of the windand the _splash, splash_ of the water, as they pressed on, the squirecautiously trying to keep one foot by the rut which had guided his son,and, when it became intangible, seeking for some other means to keepthem from straying from the submerged road in the darkness, and goingoff to right or left into the bog.
It was a terrible walk, for they had a full mile to go; and to thesquire's horror, he found that it was not only against the wind but alsoagainst the sharply running water, which was flowing in from the sea andgrowing deeper inch by inch.
As if to comfort each other father and son kept on making cheery remarksapropos of their rough journey. Now it was Dick, who declared that thewater felt warmer than the air; now it was the squire, who laughinglysaid that he should believe now in blind men being able to find theirway by the touch.
"For I'm feeling my way along here famously, Dick."
"Yes, father, only it seems such a long way--ugh!"
"What is it, boy?"
"One foot went down deep. Yes, I know where we are."
"Yes, close home, my boy," cried the squire.
"No, no; half a mile away by the sharp turn, father; and I nearly wentright down. We must keep more this way."
The squire drew his breath hard, for he knew his son was right, as theroad proved when they turned almost at right angles and plashed onthrough the water.
Half a mile farther to go and the current rushing on! It had been onlyover their ankles, now it was above their knees, and both knew that atthis rate it would be waist-deep, if not deeper, before they could reachthe high ground at home.
"It is very horrible, Dick, my lad," cried the squire at last as theykept on, with the water steadily and surely growing deeper.
"Oh, I don't mind, father! We shall get on so far before it's over ourheads that we shall be able to swim the rest of the way. You can swim,father?"
"I used to, my lad; perhaps I have not forgotten how. But I am thinkingof the people about. I wonder whether Hickathrift has found it out."
"I dare say he's in bed, father," said Dick.
"That's what I fear, my boy; and then there's John Warren."
"He'll get up the sand-hills, father."
&nb
sp; "If he knows in time, my boy; but Dave Gittan has no place to flee to."
"He has his little boat, father; and Chip would warn him if he has goneto bed. I know what he'd do then."
"What, my lad?"
"Pole himself along to John Warren and fetch him off, and come on to theToft."
"Mind, take care, we're going wrong," cried the squire excitedly, as heslipped and went in right up to his waist, but Dick clung to his hand,threw himself back, and with a heavy splash the squire managed to regainthe hard road off whose edge he had slipped.
"We must go slower, father," said Dick coolly. "You pull me back if Igo wrong this way and I'll pull you. I say, isn't it getting dark!"
The squire made no answer, but feeling that their case was growingdesperate, and if they did not progress more rapidly they would be insuch deep water before they could reach the Priory that it would beimpossible to keep the track, and they would be swept away, he pushedon, with the result that in a few minutes Dick had a narrow escape,slipping right in and coming up panting, to be dragged back, and standstill quite confused by his total immersion.
"We must get on, Dick, my boy," said his father; "the water's growingterribly deep, and it presses against us like a torrent. Forward!"
They recommenced their journey, wading on slowly over what seemed to bean interminable distance; but no sign of the dark village or of theisland-farm in the fen appeared, and at last the water deepened so thata chilly feeling of despair began slowly to unnerve the squire and sethim thinking that theirs was a hopeless case.
"Be ready, Dick," he whispered, as, after a tremendous puff of windwhich stopped them for the moment, he once more pressed on.
"Ready, father?" panted Dick. "What for?"
"We may have to swim directly. If it gets much deeper we cannot forceour way."
"Oh, we shall do it!" cried the boy; "we must be close there now."
"I fear not," said the squire to himself. "Hold on, boy!" he criedaloud. "What is it?"
"Water's--up to my--chest," panted Dick; "and it comes so fast here--it's--it's too strong for me."
"Dick!" cried the squire in agony.
"I must swim, father," cried Dick.
"And be swept away!" cried the squire hoarsely. "Heaven help me! whatshall I do?"
He had gripped his son tightly in his agony, and they stood together fora few moments, nearly swept off their feet by the swirling current, whena bright idea flashed across the squire's mind.
"Quick, Dick! don't speak. Climb on my back."
"But, father--"
"Do as I bid you," roared the squire, stooping a little, and bendingdown he made of one hand a stirrup for his son's foot, who, the nextmoment, was well up on his back.
"That's better, boy," panted the squire. "You are safe, and your weightsteadies me. I can get on now; it can't be far."
As he spoke a light suddenly flashed up a couple of hundred yards ahead,and gleamed strangely over the water like a blood-red stain.
Then it died out, but flashed up again and increased till there was aruddy path of light before them, and behind the glow stood up the trees,the long, low Priory and the out-buildings, while figures could be seenmoving here and there.
"I know," cried Dick. "I see, father. They've lit a bonfire to show uswhich way to go. Ahoy!"
"Ahoy!" came back in a stentorian shout, and something was thrown uponthe fire which dulled it for the moment, but only for it to flash up ina tremendous blaze, with the sparks and flames of fire rushing towardsthem.
"Ahoy!" came the shout again.
"Ahoy!" answered Dick.
"That will do, my boy," panted the squire. "The water's gettinghorribly deep, but I can manage now, for I can tell which way to go."
"Little more to the left, father," cried Dick.
"Right, boy!"
"No, no, father," shrieked Dick; "left!"
"I meant you are right, my lad," said the squire, moving on, with thewater growing deeper still, while the stentorian voice kept utteringcheering shouts to them, which they answered till they were only aboutfifty yards away, when it became plain that someone was coming to meetthem, splash, splash, through the water, with a pole in his hand.
The figure, though only head and half his body were visible above theplashing water, looked large, and for a few moments in his confusionDick was puzzled; but he realised who it was at last, and cried:
"Why, it's old Hicky!"
He was right; and just in the veriest time of need the great blacksmithreached the fainting squire, and grasping his arm breasted the waterwith him; and in another minute they were ascending the slope, with thewater shallowing, till they reached a blazing fire, where Mrs Winthorpeclasped husband and son to her breast!
"All right, wife!" cried the squire. "Glad you are here, Hickathrift!All your people too?"
"Yes, squire, all safe here; but we're uneasy like about Dave o' the'Coy and John Warren."
"But they've got the boat," cried Dick.
"Yes; I hope they're safe," said the squire. "Hickathrift, my lad, thatwas a brave thought of yours to light that fire. It saved our lives."
"Nay, squire," said the big fellow; "it was no thowt o' mine--it was thymissus put it into my yead."
The squire gave his wife a look as she stood there in the midst of agroup of shivering farm-servants, and then turned to the wheelwright.
"The boat," he said--"did you come in the boat?"
"Ay, squire. She leaks a deal, but I thrust an owd pillow in the hole.But I nigh upon lost her. My Grip woke me howling, for we were abed. Ijumped out and ran down, thinking it was the foxes after the chickens,and walked right into the water. I knowed what it meant, and got overto the saw-pit, and just caught hold of the boat in the dark as it wasfloating away. Then I got my leaping-pole and run her under the window,and made my missus give me a pillow to stop the leak 'fore I could baleher out. Then Jacob come, and we got the missus down and poled heralong here, but was nearly swept by."
"You're a good fellow, Hickathrift," cried the squire. "Wife, get outsome hollands; we're perished. Have a glass, my man; and then we mustgo in the punt to Grimsey and get the Tallingtons out. We're all righthere, but Grimsey Farm will soon be flooded to the bed-room windows.Light a lanthorn, some one, and put in a spare candle. You'll go withme, Hickathrift?"
"Ay, squire, to the end of the world, if thou bids me; but I tell ye--"
He stopped short.
"Well, what, man? Here, drink!"
"Efter yow, squire," said the big fellow sturdily. "I tell ye that nomortal man, nor no two men, couldn't take that punt across to Grimsey inthe dark to-night. We should be swept no one knows wheer, and do nogood to them as wants the help."
"But we can't leave them to drown, man!" cried the squire.
"No; we can't do that, and we wean't," cried Hickathrift. "They'll getright on the roof if the bed-rooms gets full; and while we're waitingfor day we'll have the punt hauled up. Jacob'll howd the light, andI'll see if I can't mend the hole. You've got a hammer and some nailsin the big barn?"
"Yes," said the squire; "yes, you are right, my man--you are right.Come, Dick: dry clothes."
There was nothing else to be done; and as the bonfire was kept blazingthe punt was hauled up, and in the midst of the howling wind and therush of the water Dick stood looking on, his heart full as he thought ofTom Tallington asking his help away there in the darkness; while tap,tap, tap went the wheelwright's hammer, after his saw had rasped off athin piece of board.
"That'll do it," he cried at last; and the punt was placed ready forlaunching when the day showed.
Meanwhile the squire gave orders for the fire to be kept well alight;and fagots of wood and straw trusses were piled on, with the odds andends of broken farming implements and worn-out wooden shedding that hadbeen the accumulation of years.
The result was that the flames rose high over the wild weird scene,gilding the wind-tossed pines and staining the flood for far, whileth
ere was so much excitement in thus sitting up and keeping the fireblazing that it would have been real enjoyment to Dick had he not beenin a constant state of fret and anxiety about his friends.
For, living as he did in that island of good elevated land in the greatwild fen where inhabitants were scarce, everybody was looked upon as anintimate friend, and half the lad's time was spent at the bottom of theslope beyond the ruinous walls of the old Priory, watching the water tosee how much higher it had risen, and to gaze out afar and watch for thecoming of boat or punt.
In truth, though, there was only one vessel likely to come, and that wasthe flat-bottomed punt belonging to Dave, who worked the duck-decoy farout in the fen. The people on the sea-bank had a boat; but they werefive miles away at least, and would not venture on such a night.
"What should I do?" thought Dick as he walked down to the edge of thewater again and again. "If Tom is drowned, and Dave, and John Warren,they may drain the fen as soon as they like, for the place will not bethe same."
The night wore on; and Mrs Winthorpe made the people in turn partake ofa meal, half supper, half breakfast, and, beyond obeying his father'sorders regarding dry clothes, Dick could go no further. He revoltedagainst food, and, feeling heartsick and enraged against the wheelwrightfor eating a tremendous meal, he once more ran down to the water's edge,to find his father watching a stick or two he had thrust in.
"Tide has turned, Dick," he said quietly; "the water will not rise anyhigher."
"And will it all run off now, father?"
The squire shook his head.
"Some will," he replied; "but the fen will be a regular lake till thesea-bank has been mended. It must have been rough and the tide veryhigh to beat that down."
"Will it come in again, then?" asked Dick.
"Perhaps: perhaps not. It's a lucky thing that I had no stock down atthe corner field by the fish-stews. If they had not been up here in thehome close, every head must have been drowned."
"Do you think the fish-ponds are covered, father?"
"Five or six feet deep, my boy."
"Then the fish will get out."
"Very likely Dick; but we've something more important to think aboutthan fish. Hark! what's that?" and he listened.
"Ahoy!" roared Hickathrift from just behind them. "Hear that, squire?"
"Yes, my lad, I heard a cry from off the water."
Just then came another faint hail from a distance.
"That's Dave," said Hickathrift, smiling all over his broad face; "anyone could tell his hail: it's something between a wild-goose cry and thesqueak of a cart-wheel that wants some grease."
The hailing brought out everybody from the house, Mrs Winthorpe's firstinquiry being whether it was the Tallingtons.
"Pitch on a bit more straw, Dick," cried the squire; and the lad seizeda fork and tossed a quantity on the fire, while the wheelwright stirredup the embers with a pole, the result being that the flames roared uptremendously, sending out a golden shower of sparks which were sweptaway before the wind, fortunately in the opposite direction to thehouse, towards which the squire darted one uneasy glance.
"Ahoy!" shouted the wheelwright, and there was a fresh response whichsounded weird and strange, coming as it did from out of the black wallof darkness seen beyond the ring of ruddy light which gleamed upon thewater.
"They'll get here easily now," said the squire from the very edge of theflood, as he tossed out a piece of wood, and saw that it was floatedsteadily away. "The current is slack."
He could not avoid shuddering as he thought of the way in which it hadpressed upon him as he waded toward the island with Dick upon his back;but the memory passed away directly as a fresh hail came from off thewater; and as the group looked out anxiously and listened for the splashof the pole, they at last saw the fire-light shining upon a figure whichgradually came gliding out of the darkness. At first it seemed strange,and almost ghastly; but in a few more moments those who watched couldsee that it was Dave o' the 'Coy in his fox-skin cap standing up in hislittle white punt and thrusting it along by means of a long pole, whilea man sat in the stern.
"Yon's John Warren along wi' him," cried Hickathrift. "I thowt they'dbe all right. Come on, lads, clost in here," he shouted; and withoutmaking any reply, the strange-looking man in the bows of the boat pulledher along till the prow struck upon the flooded grass, and he threw arope to the wheelwright.
"Got your gun, Dave?" cried Dick eagerly.
The man turned his head slowly to the speaker, laid the pole across theboat, which was aground a dozen feet from the dry land, stooped, pickedup his long gun, and uttered a harsh--
"Kitch!"
As he spoke he threw the gun to the wheelwright, who caught it andpassed it to Dick, while the second man handed Dave another gun, whichwas sent ashore in the same way. Then, taking up the pole, Dave placedit a little way before him, and leaped ashore as actively as a boy,while the second man now advanced to the front, caught the pole as itwas thrown back, and in turn cleared the water and landed upon the dryground.
"Glad to see you safe, Dave," said the squire, holding out his hand."Glad to see you, too, John Warren. You are heartily welcome."
The two men took the squire's hand in a limp, shrinking manner; andinstead of giving it a hearty grip, lifted it up once, looking at it allthe time as if it were something curious, and then let it fall, andshuffled aside, giving a furtive kind of nod to every one in turn whooffered a congratulation.
They were the actions of men who led a solitary life among the birds andfour-footed animals of the great wild fen, and to be made the heroes ofan escape seemed to be irksome.
Just then there was a diversion which took off people's attention, andseemed to place them more at ease. A sharp quick yelp came from theboat, followed by a bark, and, plainly seen in the fire-light, a coupleof dogs placed their paws on the edge of the little vessel, raised theirheads to the full stretch of their necks, and with cocked-up ears seemedto ask, "What's to be done with us?"
"Hi! Chip, Chip! Snig, Snig! Come, boys," shouted Dick, patting hisleg; and the dogs barked loudly, but did not stir.
"Come on, you cowards!" cried Dick. "You won't get any wetter than Idid."
"Here!" said Dave; and Chip leaped over and swam ashore, gave himself ashake, and then performed a joy dance about Dick's legs.
This time there was a dismal howl from the punt, where the second dogwas waiting for permission to land.
"Come on!" said the second man, a frowning, thoughtful-looking fellow ofabout fifty, the lower part of whose face was hidden by a thick beard--agreat rarity a hundred years ago--and the other dog leaped into thewater with a tremendous splash, swam ashore, rushed at Chip, and therewas a general worry, half angry, half playful, for a few moments beforethe pair settled down close to the fire, as if enjoying its warmth.
"This is a terrible misfortune, Dave," said the squire.
"Ay; the water's out, mester," said the man in a low husky way.
"How did you escape?"
"Escape?" said Dave, taking off his fox-skin cap and rubbing his head.
"Seed the watter coming, and poonted ower to the Warren," said thesecond man, thrusting something in his mouth which he took out of abrass box, and then handing the latter to Dave, who helped himself to apiece of dark-brown clayey-looking stuff which seemed like a thick pastemade of brown flour and treacle.
"I wish you men would break yourselves of this habit," said the squire."You'll be worse for it some day."
"Keeps out the cold and ager, mester," said the second man, thrustingthe box back in his pocket.
"Then you've been waiting at the Warren?"
"Ay, mester. Me an' him waited till we see the fire, and thowt thehouse hed kitched, and then we come."
"It was very good of you, my lads," said the squire warmly. "There, getin, and the mistress will give you some bread and cheese and ale."
"Arn't hungry," growled the second man. "Can'st ta yeat, Dave, man?"
r /> "Ah!" growled Dave, and he slouched round, looking at the ground, andturned to go. "Gimme mai goon," he added.
"The guns are all right, Dave," cried Dick. "I've got 'em. I say, JohnWarren, will the rabbits be all drowned?"
"Drowned, young mester! Nay, not they. Plenty o' room for em up in theruns where the watter won't come."
"But the foxes, and hares, and things?" cried Dick.
"Them as has got wings is flied awayer," growled the second man; "themas has got paddles is swimmed; and them as can't find the dry patches isgone down."
After this oracular utterance John o' the Warren, who took his popularname from the rabbit homes, to the exclusion of his proper surname ofSearby, tramped heavily after his companion to the Priory kitchen, wherethey both worried a certain amount of bread and cheese, and muttered toone another over some ale, save when Dick spoke to them and told them ofhis anxieties, when each man gave him a cheery smile.
"Don't yow fret, lad," said Dave. "Bahds is all reight. They wean'thoort. Wait till watter goos down a bit and you an' me'll have raresport."
"Ay, and rabbuds is all reight too, young mester," added John Warren."They knows the gainest way to get up stairs. They're all happed upwarm in their roons, ready to come out as soon as the watter goos down."
"But how did it happen?"
"Happen, lad!" said the two men in a breath.
"Yes; what caused the flood?"
"Oh, I d'n'know," growled Dave slowly. "Happen sea-bank broke to showfolk as fen warn't niver meant to be drained, eh, John Warren?"
"Ay, that's it, lad. Folk talks o' draaning fen, and such blather.Can't be done."
"I say, John, I don't want the fen drained," whispered Dick.
"Good lad!" growled John Warren; and then Dave shook his head at theale-mug, sighed, and drank.
"But don't let father hear what you say, because he won't like it."
"Nay, I sha'n't say nowt," said Dave.
"Nay, nor me neither, only natur's natur, and floods is floods," addedJohn Warren; and he too shook his head at the ale-mug, and drank.
"Now, then," cried the squire, coming quickly to the door, "Hickathriftand 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 Dick.
"No, my lad, I'm afraid I--"
"Don't say that, father; let me go."
"No no, Dick," cried Mrs Winthorpe, entering the kitchen, for she hadbeen upon the alert. "You have run risks enough to-night."
"Yes; stay and take care of the women, Dick," said his father.
Dick gave an angry stamp on the floor.
"Mother wants me to grow up a coward," he cried. "Oh, mother, it's toobad!"
"But, Dick, my boy," faltered the poor woman.
"Let the boy come, wife," said the squire quietly; "I'll take care ofhim."
"Yes, and I'll take care of father," cried Dick, rushing at his motherto give her a sounding kiss, and with a sigh she gave way, and followedthe party down to the water's edge.