"Well, then, you had better come home with me to my father's cottage.
It is away down near the sea, and he'll give you some hot spirits, and
you can turn into my bed while your clothes are drying."
I was very glad to accept his proposal, for I did not at all fancy
having to go home all dripping, to be laughed at by my brothers, and to
get a scolding from Aunt Deb into the bargain, for I knew she would say
it was all my own fault, and that if I had not been prying into the
swan's nest, the bird would not have attacked me. I did not, however,
wish to lose my rod and basket of fish, and I thought it very probable
that if I left them, somebody else would carry them off. I asked my new
friend his name.
"Mark Riddle," he answered.
"Before I go I must get back my rod and basket of fish; it won't take us
long. Would you mind coming with me?"
"No, master, I don't mind; but I would advise you to be quick about it."
Mark helped me up, and as I soon got the use of my legs, we ran round
outside the trees as fast as we could go. The basket of fish was safe
enough on the bank, but the rod was floating away at some distance.
"Oh dear, oh dear. I shall never be able to get it," I exclaimed.
"What! Can't you swim, master?" asked Mark.
I confessed that I was afraid I could not swim far enough to bring it
in.
"Well, never you mind. I'll have it in a jiffy," and stripping off his
clothes he plunged into the water and soon brought in the rod.
"There's a fish on the hook I've a notion," he said, as he handed me the
butt end of the rod.
He was right, and as he was dressing, not taking long to rub himself dry
with his handkerchief, I landed a fine fat tench.
"That belongs to you," I said. "And, indeed, I ought to give you all
the fish I have in my basket."
"Much obliged, master; but I've got a fine lot myself, which I pulled
out of the pond this morning, only don't you say a word about it, for
the Squire, I've a notion, doesn't allow us poor people to come fishing
here."
I assured Mark that I would not inform against him, and having taken my
rod to pieces and wound up my line, I said that I was ready to set out.
Mark by that time was completely dressed. Just as we were about to
start I saw the swan--I suppose the same one which had dragged me across
the pond--come swimming back at a rapid rate towards where we were
standing, in the neighbourhood, as I well knew, of her nest. Whether or
not she fancied we were about to interfere with her young, we could not
tell, but we agreed that it was well to beat a retreat. We accordingly
set off and ran on until we reached the further end of the pond, when
Mark, asking me to stop a minute, disappeared among the bushes, and in a
few minutes returned with a rough basket full of fine tench, carp, and
eels. I had a notion that some night-lines had assisted him to take so
many. I did not, however, ask questions just then, and once more we set
off running. Wet as I was, I was very glad to move quickly, not that I
felt particularly cold, for the sun had now risen some way above the
trees, and as there was not a breath of air, his rays warmed me and
began to dry my outer garments. I must have had a very draggled look,
and I had no wish to be seen by any one at home in that condition. In
little more than a quarter of an hour we came in sight of a cottage
situated below a cliff on the side of a ravine, opening out towards the
sea. A stream which flowed from the Squire's ponds running through it.
"That is my home, and father will be right glad to see you," said Mark,
pointing to it.
A fine old sailor-like man with a straw hat and round jacket came out of
the door as we approached, and began to look about him in the fashion
seafaring men have the habit of doing when they first turn out in the
morning, to ascertain what sort of weather it is likely to be. His eyes
soon fell on Mark and me as we ran down the ravine.
"Who have you got with you, my son?" he asked.
"The young gentleman from the vicarage. He has had a ducking, and he
wants to dry his clothes before he goes home; or maybe he'd call it a
swanning, seeing it was one of those big white birds which pulled him
in, and towed him along from one end of the pond to the other, eh,
master? What's your name?"
"Richard," I replied, "though I'm generally called Dick," not at all
offended at my companion's familiarity.
"You are welcome, Master Dick, and if you like to turn into Mark's bed,
or put on a shirt and pair of trousers of his, we'll get your duds dried
before the kitchen fire in a jiffy," said the old sailor. "Come in,
come in; it doesn't do to stand out in the air when you are wet through
with fresh water."
I gladly entered the old sailor's cottage, where I found his wife and a
young daughter, a year or two older than Mark, busy in getting breakfast
ready. I thought Nancy Riddle a nice-looking pleasant-faced girl, and
her mother a good-natured buxom dame. As I had no fancy for going to
bed I gladly accepted a pair of duck trousers and a blue check shirt
belonging to Mark, and a pair of low shoes, which were certainly not
his. I suspected that they were Nancy's best.
I quickly took off my wet things in Mark's room, and getting into dry
ones, made my appearance in the room which served them for parlour,
kitchen, and hall, where I found the table spread, with a pot of hot
tea, cups and saucers, a bowl of porridge, a loaf of home-made bread,
and a pile of buttered toast, to which several of Mark's freshly caught
fish were quickly added. I offered mine to Mrs Riddle, but she
answered--
"Thank you kindly, but you had better take them home to your friends,
they'll be glad of them, and we've got a plenty, as you see."
I was very thankful to get a cup of scalding tea, for I was beginning to
feel somewhat chilly, though Mrs Riddle made me sit near the fire. A
saucer of porridge and milk, followed by some buttered toast and the
best part of a tench, with a slice or two of bread soon set me up.
Nancy, however, now and then got up and gave my clothes a turn to dry
them faster--a delicate attention which I duly appreciated. Mr Riddle,
who was evidently fond of spinning yarns, as most old sailors are,
narrated a number of his adventures, which greatly interested me, and
made me more than ever wish to go to sea. Mark had already made a trip
in a coaster to the north of England, and I was much surprised to hear
him say that he had had enough of it.
"It is not all gold that glitters," he remarked. "I fancied that I was
to become a sailor all at once, instead of that I was made to clean out
the cabin, attend on the skipper, and wash up the pots and the pans for
the cook, and be at everybody's beck and call, with a rope's-end for my
reward whenever I was not quick enough to please my many masters."
"That's what most youngsters have to put up with when they first go to
sea," remarked his father. "You should not have minded it, my lad."
I found that Mark's great ambition was to become the owner of a
fishing-boat, when he could live at home and be his own master. He was
fonder of fishing than anything else, and when he could not get out to
sea he passed much of his time with his rod and lines on the banks of
the Squire's ponds, or on those of others in the neighbourhood. He did
not consider it poaching, as he asserted he had a perfect right to catch
fish wherever he could find them, and I suspect that his father was of
the same opinion, for he did not in any way find fault with him. When
breakfast was over Mark exhibited with considerable pride a small model
of a vessel which he and his father had cut out of a piece of pine, and
rigged in a very perfect manner. I was delighted with her appearance,
and said I should like to have a similar craft.
"Well, Master Cheveley, I'll cut one out for you as soon as I can get a
piece of wood fit for the purpose," said the old sailor; "and when Mark
and I have rigged her I'll warrant she'll sail faster than any other
craft of her size which you can find far or near."
"Thank you," I answered, "I shall be very pleased to have her; and
perhaps we can get up a regatta, and Mark must bring his vessel. I feel
sure he or I will carry off the prize."
As I wanted to get home, dreading the jobation I should get from Aunt
Deb for not making my appearance at prayer-time, I begged my friends to
let me put on my own clothes. They were tolerably dry by this time,
though the shoes were still wet, but that was of no consequence.
"Well, Master Dick, we shall always be glad to see you. Whenever you
come this way give us a call," said the old sailor, as I was preparing
to wish him, his wife and daughter good-bye.
I shook hands all round, and Mark accompanied me part of the way home.
I parted from him as if he had been an old friend, indeed I was really
grateful to him for the way in which he had saved my life, as I believed
he had done, when he drove off the enraged swan.