Thorpeley was not badly hurt, so the doctor said when he came; but, as
usual, he added, "If it had been an inch or two more to the right an
important vessel would have been divided, and he would have bled to
death."
But if the constable was not badly wounded, though the injury caused by
a bullet passing through his leg was an ugly one, the reputations of
Dick Winthorpe and Tom Tallington had received such ugly wounds that
their fathers found it difficult to get them cured.
For Thorpeley stuck to his first story, that he suspected the two boys
to be engaged in some nefarious trick, and he had watched them from the
time they borrowed the wheelwright's punt. He went on to describe how
he had offended them by keeping his eye upon their movements, and told
how they had tried to smother him by leading him into a dangerous
morass, while just at dusk, as he was watching their boat, he saw them
start towards him, and evidently believing that they were unseen from
where they had tied their punt, they had deliberately taken aim at him
and shot him.
The squire questioned him very sharply, but he adhered to everything.
He swore that he saw them thrust the punt away, and go into the misty
darkness; and then when they had heard his cries, they came back and
landed, evidently repentant and frightened, and then helped him down to
the boat.
"But," said the squire, "it might have been two other people in a punt
who shot at you."
"Two others!" shouted the man; "it weer they, and I heered 'em laughing
and bragging about it as I lay theer in the bottom o' the boat nearly in
a swownd, bud I could hear what they said."
This charge was so serious that, as a matter of course, there was a
magisterial inquiry, which was repeated as soon as the constable was
sufficiently well to limp into the justice-room in the little town where
he had been removed as soon as the doctor gave permission, the
neighbourhood of the Toft and Hickathrift having grown uncomfortably
warm.
At that last examination the magistrates shook their heads, and, after
hearing a great deal of speaking, decided that Thorpeley must have been
deceived in the darkness, and the charge was dismissed.
In those days the law had two qualities in an out-of-the-way place that
have pretty well died out now. These qualities were laxity and
severity--the disposition to go to extremes; and in this case some idea
of the way in which the work of petty sessions was carried on will be
grasped when it is told that after the examination the chairman of the
bench of magistrates, an old landholder of the neighbourhood, shook
hands with the squire, and then less freely with Farmer Tallington.
"Look here, you two," he said; "we've let off these two young scamps;
but you had better send them to sea, or at all events away from here."
"I don't understand you, sir," said the squire hotly.
"I can't help that," was the gruff reply. "You take my advice. Send
'em away before there's more mischief done. I sha'n't let 'em off next
time."
Hickathrift, who had watched all the proceedings, heard these words; and
as the two lads trudged home beside him, with the squire and Farmer
Tallington in front, he told them all that had been said.
Dick said nothing, but Tom fired up and exclaimed angrily, while the
wheelwright kept on talking quietly to the former.
"Niver yow mind, lad; we don't think you shot at him. It's some o' they
lads t'other side o' the fen. They comes acrost and waits their chance,
and then goes back, and nobody's none the wiser. Niver you mind what
owd magistrit said. Magistrit indeed! Why, I'd mak' a better magistrit
out of owd Solomon any day o' the week."
It was kindly spoken; but if there is a difficult thing to do it is to
"never mind" when the heart is sore through some accusation that rankles
from its injustice.
"Yes, Tom," said Dick, when they were about half-way home; "they'd
better send us away."
He looked longingly across the fen with its gleaming waters, waving
reeds, and many-tinted flowers; and as he gazed in the bright afternoon
sunshine it seemed as if it had never looked so beautiful before. To an
agricultural-minded man it was a watery waste; but to a boy who had
passed his life there, and found it the home of bird, insect, fish, and
flower, and an ever-changing scene of pleasure, it was all that could be
called attractive and bright.
"I'm ready to go," said Tom sturdily; "only I don't know which to do."
"Which to do!" cried Dick, with his face growing red, and his eyes
flashing. "Why, what do you mean?"
"Whether to go for a soldier or a sailor."
"Haw! haw!"
Hickathrift's was a curious laugh. At a distance it might have been
taken for a hail; but a fine heron standing heel-deep in the shallow
water took it to be a cry to scare him, so spreading his great flap
wings, and stooping so as to get a spring, he flew slowly off with
outstretched legs, while the squire and Farmer Tallington looked back to
see if they had been called.
"What are you laughing at?" said Tom angrily.
"Yow, lad, yow. Why, you arn't big enew to carry a goon; and as for
sailing, do you think a ship's like a punt, and shoved along wi' a
pole!"
"Never mind," grumbled Tom. "I'm not going to stop here and be
suspected for nothing."
"Nay, nay, don't you lads talk nonsense."
"It's no nonsense, Hicky," said Dick bitterly. "I've made up my mind to
go."
"Nay, nay, I tell thee. Thou wean't goo, lads."
"Indeed but we will," cried Dick energetically.
"What, goo?"
"Yes."
"Height awayer?"
"Yes, right away."
"Then what's to become of me?" cried the wheelwright excitedly.
"Become of you! Why, what's it got to do with you?" cried Tom surlily.
"Do wi' me! Why, iverything. What's the good o' my punt? what's the
good o' me laying up a couple o' good ash-poles for you, and putting a
bit o' wood up chimney to season, so as to hev it ready for new soles
for your pattens [skates] next winter. Good, indeed! What call hev you
to talk that clat?"
"You're a good old chap, Hicky," said Dick, smiling up at the big
fellow; "but you can't understand what I feel over this."
"Hey, bud I can," cried the wheelwright quickly; "you feel just the same
as I did when Farmer Tallington--Tom's father here--said I'd sent him in
his bill after he'd sattled it; and as I did when my missus said I'd
took half a guinea outer money-box to spend i' town. I know, lads.
Yes, I know."
"Well, I suppose it is something like that, Hicky," said Dick sadly.
"Ay, joost the same; bud I didn't tell Farmer Tallington as I should go
for a soldier, and I didn't turn on my wife and tell her I should go to
sea."
Dick was silent the rest of the way home, but he shook hands very
solemnly with Tom, and Tom pressed his hand hard as they parted at the
farm. Then Dick went on beside the wheelwright, while the squire walked
swiftly ahead, evidently thinking deeply.
There was a meaning in that grip of the hand which Hickathrift did not
understand; but he kept on talking cheerily to the lad till they were
close up to the Toft, when, just as the squire turned in and stopped for
Dick to join him, the wheelwright shook hands with the lad.
"Good day, Mester Dick!" he said aloud; and then in a whisper:
"Don't you go away, lad, for if you do they'll be sure to say it was yow
as fired the shot."