The time rolled on. The drain-making progressed, and for a while there
was no further trouble. Mr Winthorpe improved in health, but always
seemed to avoid any allusion to the outrage; and after the constables
had been a few times and found out nothing, and the magistrates of the
neighbourhood had held consultation, the trouble once more dropped.
Dick Winthorpe always lived in apprehension of being examined, and
pressed to tell all he knew, but his father never said a word, to his
great relief, and the matter died out.
"I can't take any steps about it," Dick said to himself, "if my father
doesn't;" and there were times when he longed to speak, others when he
wished that he could forget everything about the past.
"Yow two med it up yet?" Hickathrift used to ask every time he saw
Dick; but the answer was always the same--"No."
"Ah, well, you will some day, my lad. It arn't good for boys to make
quarrels last."
There was no more warm friendship with Mr Marston, who, whenever he
came over to the Toft, was studiously polite to Dick, treating him as if
he were not one whose friendship was worth cultivating, to the lad's
great disgust, though he was too proud to show it; and the result was
that Dick's life at the Toft grew very lonely, and he was driven to seek
the companionship of John Warren and his rabbits, and of Dave with his
boat, gun, and fishing-tackle.
Then all at once there was a change. The outrages, which had ceased for
a time, broke out again furiously; and all through the winter there were
fires here and there, the very fact of a person, whether farmer or
labourer, seeming to favour the making of the drain, being enough to
make him receive an unwelcome visit from the party or parties who
opposed the scheme.
So bad did matters grow that at last people armed and prepared
themselves for the struggle which was daily growing more desperate; and
at the same time a feeling of suspicion increased so strongly that
throughout the fen every man looked upon his neighbour as an enemy.
But still the drain grew steadily in spite of the fact that Mr Marston
had been shot at twice again, and never went anywhere now without a
brace of pistols in his pocket.
One bright wintry morning John Warren came in with a long tale of woe,
and his arm in a sling.
It was the old story. He had been out with his gun to try and get a
wild-goose which he had marked down, when, just in the dusk, about
half-past four, he was suddenly startled by a shot, and received the
contents of a gun in his arm.
"But you'd got a gun," said Hickathrift, who was listening with Dick,
while Tom Tallington, who had business at the wheelwright's that
morning, stood hearing all. "Why didst na let him hev it again?"
"What's the use o' shuting at a sperrit?" grumbled John Warren.
"'Sides, I couldn't see him."
"Tchah! it warn't a sperrit," said Hickathrift contemptuously.
"Well, I don't know so much about that," grumbled John Warren. "If it
weern't a sperrit what was to mak my little dog, Snig, creep down in the
bottom of the boat and howl? Yow mark my words: it's sperrits, that's
what it is; and it's because o' that theer dreern; but they needn't
shute at me, for I don't want dreern made."
"Going over to town to see the doctor, John?" said Dick.
"Nay, lad, not I. It's only a hole in my arm. There arn't nowt the
matter wi' me. I've tied it oop wi' some wet 'bacco, and it'll all grow
oop again, same as a cooten finger do."
"But someone ought to see it."
"Well, someun has sin it. I showed it to owd Dave, and he said it weer
all right. Tchah! what's the good o' doctors? Did they cure my ager?"
"Well, go up and ask mother to give you some clean linen rag for it."
"Ay," said the rabbit-trapper with a grim smile, "I'll do that."
So John Warren went to the Toft, obtained the clean linen rag, but
refused to have his wound dressed, and went off again; while the squire
knit his brow when he returned soon after, and, taking Dick with him,
poled across in the punt to see Dave and make him promise to keep a
sharp look-out.
A week passed away, and the frost had come in so keenly that the ice
promised to bear, and consequent upon this Dick was at the wheelwright's
one evening superintending the finishing up of his pattens, as they
called their skates. Hickathrift had ground the blades until they were
perfectly sharp at the edges, and had made a new pair of ashen soles for
them, into which he had just finished fitting the steel.
"There, Mester Dick," said the bluff fellow with a grin; "that's a pair
o' pattens as you ought 'most to fly in. Going out in the morning?"
"Yes, Hicky, I shall go directly after breakfast."
"Ay, she'll bear splendid to-morrow, and the ice is as hard and black as
it can be. Hello, who's this? Haw-haw! I thowt you'd want yours
done," he added, as he heard steps coming over the frozen ground, and
the jingle of skates knocking together. "It's young Tom Tallington,
Mester Dick. Come, you two ought to mak friends now, and go and hev a
good skate to-morrow."
"I'm never going to be friends with Tom Tallington again," said Dick
sternly; but he sighed as he said it.
Just then Tom rushed into the workshop. "Here," he cried, "Dick
Winthorpe, come along. I've been to the house."
"What do you want?" said Dick coldly.
"What do I want! Why, they don't know!" cried Tom. "Look here!"
He caught Dick by the collar, dragged him to the door, and pointed.
"Fire!" he cried.
"Hey!" cried the wheelwright. "Fire! So it is. But there's no house
or stack out theer."
"Only old Dave's. Father said he thought it must be his place. Come
on, Dick."
"But how are we to get there?" cried Dick, forgetting the feud in the
excitement.
"How are we to get there! Why, skate."
"Will it be strong enough, Hicky?"
"Mebbe for you, lads; but it wouldn't bear me, and I couldn't get along
the boat nor yet a sled."
Tom had already seated himself, and was putting on his skates, while
Dick immediately began to follow suit, with the result that in five
minutes both were ready and all past troubles forgotten. The memory of
the terrible night when his father was shot did come for a moment to
Dick, but the trouble had grown dull, and the excitement of Dave's place
being on fire carried everything before it.
"Poor owd Dave!" said Hickathrift, as he gazed over the mere at the glow
in the black frosty night. "He's got off so far. Mebbe it'll be my
turn next. Come back and tell me, lads."
"Yes, yes," they shouted, as they walked clumsily to the ice edge, Dick
first, and as he glided on there was an ominous ringing crack which
seemed to run right out with a continuous splitting noise.
"Will it bear, Hicky?"
"Ay, she'll bear you, lad, only keep well out, and away from the reeds."
Tom dashed on, and as the wheelwright stood with the group of labourers,
who were just beginning to comprehend the new alarm, the two lads went
off stroke for stroke over the ringing ice, which cracked now and again
but did not yield, save to undulate beneath them, as they kept gathering
speed and glided away.
Far ahead there was the ruddy glow, showing like a golden patch upon the
dark sky, which overhead was almost black, and glittering with the
brilliant stars. The ice gleamed, little puffs of white powder rose at
every stroke of the skates, and on and on they went, gathering speed
till they were gliding over the ringing metallic surface like arrows
from a bow, while as soon as the first timidity had passed away they
began to feel their feet, and in a few minutes were skating nearly as
well as when the ice broke up last.
The feud was forgotten, and it had lasted long enough. With a buoyant
feeling of excitement, and a sensation of joy increased by the brisk
beat of the freezing wind upon their cheeks, the two lads joined hands
in a firm grip, kept time together, and sped on as Lincoln and Cambridge
boys alone can speed over the ice.
Not that they are more clever with their legs than the boys of other
counties; but from the fact that skating has always been a favourite
pastime with them, and that when others were longing for a bit of
bearing ice, and getting it sometimes in a crowded place, the marsh and
fen lads had miles of clear bright surface, over which they could career
as a swallow flies.
Away and away over the open ice, unmarked before by skate-iron and
looking black as hardened unpolished steel, stroke for stroke, stroke
for stroke, the wind whistling by them, and the ominous cracking
forgotten as they dashed on past reed-bed and bog-clump, keeping to the
open water where they had so often been by punt.
"His reed-stack must be on fire," panted Dick as they dashed on.
"Ay, and his peat-stack and cottage too," shouted Tom so as to be heard
above the ringing of their skates. "Oh, Dick, if I only knew who it was
did these things I think I could kill him!"
Dick was silent for a minute, for his companion's words jarred upon him.
"How much farther is it?" he said at last.
"Good mile and a half," said Tom; "but it's fine going. I say, look at
the golden smoke. It must be at Dave's, eh?"
"Yes, it's there, sure enough. Oh, Tom, suppose some one were to burn
down the duck 'coy!"
"It wouldn't burn so as to do much harm. Look, there goes a flock of
plovers."
They could just catch the gleam of the wings in the dark night, as the
great flock, evidently startled by the strange glare, swept by.
"I say!" cried Dick, as they dashed on as rapidly as the birds
themselves.
"What is it?"
"Suppose poor Dave--"
"Oh, don't think things like that!" cried Tom with a shudder. "He'd be
clever enough to get out. Come along. Look at the sparks."
What Tom called sparks were glowing flakes of fire which floated on,
glittering against the black sky, and so furiously was the fire burning
that it seemed as if something far more than the hut and stacks of the
decoy-man must be ablaze.
And now they had to curve off some distance to the right, for they came
upon an embayment of the mere, so well sheltered from the icy blast that
to have persevered in skating over the very thin ice must have meant
serious accident to one, probably to both.
For a long time past the ice had been blushing, as it were, with the
warm glow from the sky; but now, as they drew nearer and passed a little
copse of willows, they glided full into the view of the burning hut and
stacks, and found that a bed of dry reeds was burning too. At this
point of their journey the cold black ice was lit up, and as they
advanced it seemed as if they were about to skim over red-hot glowing
steel.
"Now, then," cried Dick excitedly, "a rush--as fast as we can go!"
But they could get on at no greater speed, and rather slackened than
increased as they drew near to the fire; while a feeling of thankfulness
came over both as all at once they were aware of the fact that a tall
thin figure was standing apparently with its back to them staring at the
glowing fire, against which it stood out like a black silhouette.
"Dave, ho!" shouted Dick.
The figure turned slowly, and one hand was raised as if to shade the
eyes.
"Dave, ho!" shouted Tom.
"Ay, ay!" shouted back the man; and the next minute the boys glided up
to the firm earth and leaped ashore, as their old fishing and trapping
friend came slowly to meet them.
"How was it, Dave?" cried Dick.
"Was it an accident?" cried Tom.
"Accident! Just such an accident as folks hev as shoves a burning
candle in a corn stack. Just you two slither out yonder straight away,
and see if you can see anyone."
"But there can't be anyone," said Dick, looking in the direction
indicated.
"Ice wouldn't bear, and they couldn't come in a punt."
"Nay, they coom i' pattens," said Dave sharply. "I joost caught a blink
of 'em as they went off, and I let 'em hev the whole charge o' my goon."
"A bullet?" said Tom huskily.
"Nay, lad; swan-shot. I'd been out after the wild-geese at the end of
the bit o' reed-bed here, when I see a light wheer there couldn't be no
light, and I roon back and see what they'd done, and let fly at 'em."
"And hit them, Dave?" said Dick.
"Nay, lad, I can't say. I fired and I heered a squeal. Ice wouldn't
bear for me to go and see."
"Come along, Tom," cried Dick; and they skated away once more, to curve
here and there in all directions, till a hail from the island took them
back.
"Can't you find 'em?"
"No."
"Then they must have got away; but they've took some swan-shot wi' 'em,
whoever they be."
"But, Dave, were there two?"
"Don't know, lad. I only see one, and fired sharp. Look ye here," he
continued, pointing to the glowing remains of his hut, "I nivver made no
dreerns. They might have left me alone. Now they'll come back some day
and pay me back for that shot. All comes o' your father makkin dreerns,
Mester Dick, just as if we weren't reight before."
"It's very, very sad, Dave."
"Ay, bairn, and I feel sadly. Theer's a whole pound o' powder gone, and
if I'd happened to be happed up i' my bed instead of out after they
geese, I should hev gone wi' it, or been bont to dead. Why did they
want to go meddling wi' me?"
"They've been meddling with every one, Dave," said Tom.
"'Cept you two," grumbled Dave. "Theer was my sheepskin coat and a pair
o' leggin's and my new boots."
"Were the nets there, Dave?" asked Dick.
"Course they weer. Look, dessay that's them burning now. All my shot
too melted down, and my tatoes, and everything I have."
"Where was the dog?"
"Over at John Warren's. Wasn't well. Nice sort o' neighbour he is to
stop away!"
"But he couldn't come, Dave," said Tom in remonstrant tones. "The ice
wouldn't bear anyone but us boys."
"Why, I'd ha' swimmed to him," growled Dave, "if his place had been
afire."
"No you wouldn't, Dave. You couldn't when it's frozen. I say, couldn't
we put anything out?"
"Nay, lads. It must bon right away, and then there'll be a clear place
to build again."
"But," cried Dick, "a bucket or two, and we could do a good deal."
"Boocket's bont," said Dave sadly, "and everything else. They might hev
left me alone, for I hates the dreerns."
The trio stood watching the fire, which was rapidly going down now for
want of something to burn; but as they stood near, their faces scorched,
while the cold wind drawn by the rising heat cut by their ears and
threatened to stiffen their backs. The reeds and young trees which had
been burning were now smoking feebly, and the only place which made any
show was the peat-stack, which glowed warmly and kept crumbling down in
cream-coloured ash. But when a fire begins to sink it ceases to be
exciting, and as the two lads stood there upon their skates, with their
faces burning, the tightness of their straps stopped the circulation,
and their feet grew cold.
"I say, Dave," said Dick just then, "what's to be done?"
"Build 'em up again. I builded this, and I can build another, lad."
"Yes, but I mean about you. What's to be done? The ice won't bear you,
and you've got no shelter."
The rough fellow shook his head.
"Nay, but it wean't rain, and I can sit close to the fire and keep mysen
warm."
"But you ought to have some cover."
"Ay, I ought to hev some cover, and I'll get my punt ashore, and turn
her up, and sit under her."
"And no wraps! Look here, I shall be warm enough skating back. I'll
lend you my coat."
"Nay, nay, lad," said Dave, with his eyes twinkling, and his face
looking less grim. "Keep on thy coat, lad, I wean't hev it. Thankye,
though, all the same, and thou shalt hev a good bit o' sport for that,
Mester Dick. But, theer, you two had best go back."
"But we don't like leaving you," said Tom.
"Thankye, lads, thankye. Bud nivver yow mind about me. Look at the
times I've wetched all night in my poont for the wild-geese, and wi'out
a fire, eh? Yow both get back home. Wouldn't bear me to walk wi' ye to
sleep in one of the barns at the Toft, would it?"
"I don't think it would, Dave."
"Nay, it wouldn't, lad; and I don't want to get wet, so off with you."
The boys hesitated; but Dave was determined.
"Here, give me a hand wi' my poont," he said; and going to where it was
moored, he took hold of the boat, drew it close in, and then, he on one
side, the two lads on the other, they ran it right up ashore, and close
to the glowing peat-stack, where, with a good deal of laughter at their
clumsiness in skates ashore, the punt was turned over, and Dave propped
one side up with a couple of short pieces of wood.
"Theer," he said. "Looks like setting a trap to ketch a big bird. I'm
the big bird, and I shall be warm enew faacing the fire. When it goes
out I can tak' away the sticks and let the poont down and go to sleep.
Come and see me again, lads, and bring me a moothful o' something.
Mebbe the ice'll bear to-morrow."
"We'll come, Dave, never fear," said Dick, taking out his knife as he
reached the ice, and cleaning the mud off his skates, for the ground was
soft near the fire, though hard as iron everywhere else.
"I don't fear, lads," said Dave smiling, and letting off his
watchman-rattle laugh. "It's a bad job, but not so bad as Farmer
Tallington's stables burning, or squire's beasts heving theer legs
cooten. I'll soon get oop another house when I've been and seen
neighbour Hickathrift for some wood. Now, then, off you go, and see
who's best man over the ice."
"One moment, Dave," cried Dick, checking himself in the act of starting.
"It was easy enough to come here with the fire to guide us, but we must
know which way to go back."
"Ay, to be sure, lad," cried Dave eagerly. "You mak' straight for yon
star and yow'll be right. That star's reight over the Toft. Now,
then--off!"
There was a momentary hesitation, and then the boys struck the ice
almost at the same time. There was a ringing hissing sound, mingled
with a peculiar splitting as if the ice were parting from where they
started across the mere to the Toft, and then they were going at a
rapidly increasing speed straight for home.