Chapter 9. Dick Is Called Early

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_ CHAPTER NINE. DICK IS CALLED EARLY

It was Friday night. Dick had been over with the squire and two or three gentlemen interested in the great drain, to see how it progressed; and the lad had found the young engineer in charge of the works ready to ask him plenty of questions, such as one who had a keen love of the natural objects of the country would be likely to put.

The result was that Squire Winthorpe invited him over to the old Priory to come and make a fishing, shooting, or collecting trip whenever he liked.

"You are very hospitable, Mr Winthorpe," he said.

"Oh, nonsense! Shame if we who bring you people down from London to do us good here in the fens, could not be a little civil."

This was after the inspection was over, the young engineer at liberty, and he was walking part of the way back with Dick.

"Well, I must frankly say, Mr--ought I to say Squire Winthorpe?"

"No, no, Mr Marston," was the laughing reply, "I am only a plain farmer. It is the fashion down here to call a man with a few acres of his own a squire. I'm squire, you see, of a lot of bog."

"Which we shall make good land, Mr Winthorpe," said the engineer. "But I was going to say it will be a treat to come over from my lonely lodgings to some one who will make me welcome, for I must say the common people here are rather ill-disposed."

"Only snarling," said the squire. "They daren't bite. They don't like any alterations made. Take no notice of their surly ways. The soreness will soon wear off. Cruel thing to do, Mr Marston, turn a piece of swamp into a wholesome field!"

They both laughed, and soon after parted.

"I rather like that young fellow, Dick," said the squire. "Knows a deal about antiquities. Little too old for a companion for you, but people who collect butterflies and nettles and flowers generally mix regardless of age."

"Do you think the people about will interfere with the works, father?" said Dick, as they trudged along homeward.

"No, I don't, Dick," said the squire. "I should like to catch them at it."

Dick went to bed that night very tired, and dropped asleep directly, thinking of Dave and the expedition to set trimmers, or "liggers" as they called them, and he was soon in imagination afloat upon the lanes and pools of water among the reeds, with Dave softly thrusting down his pole in search of hard places, where the point would not sink in. Then he dreamed that he had baited hook after hook, attached the line to a blown-out bladder, and sent it sailing away to attract the notice of some sharking pike lurking at the edge of one of the beds of reeds.

Then he dreamed that the sun was in his eyes as it went down in a rich glow far away over the wide expanse of water and rustling dried reed, where the starlings roosted and came and went in well-marshalled clouds, all moving as if carefully drilled to keep at an exact distance one from the other, ready to wheel and turn or swoop up or down with the greatest exactness in the world.

That dreamy imagination passed away, and he became conscious that he was having his morning call, as he termed it, and for which he always prepared when going to bed by pulling up the blind and drawing aside the white curtains, so that the sun who called him should shine right in upon his face.

For the sun called Dick Winthorpe when he shone, and as the lad lay upon his side with his face toward the window the sun seemed to be doing his morning duty so well that Dick yawned, stretched, and lay with his eyes closed while the glow of red light flooded his room.

"Only seem to have just lain down," he grumbled, keeping his eyes more tightly shut than ever. "Bother! I wish I wasn't so drowsy when it's time to get up!"

At last he opened his eyes, to stare hard at the light, and then with a cry full of excitement, he threw off the clothes and leaped out of bed, to rush to the window.

"Oh!" he ejaculated; and darting back to the bed-side he hurried on his trousers, opened his door, and the next moment his bare feet padded over the polished oak floor as he made for his father's room and thumped at the door.

"Father, quick!--father!"

"Hallo! Any one ill?" cried the squire, for thieves and burglars were known only by repute out there in the fen.

"Tallington's farm's in a blaze!" cried Dick, hoarsely.

He heard a thump on the floor, a hasty ejaculation from his mother, and then ran back to his own room to finish dressing, gazing out of his window the while, to see that the bright glow about Grimsey was increasing, and that a golden cloud seemed to be slowly rising up through the still air.

"Now, Dick!" shouted his father, "run down and rouse up the people at the cottages."

Dick ran out, and down past the old Priory ruins, to where a cluster of cottages, half-way to Hickathrift's, were occupied by the people who worked upon the farm; and, distant as the fire was, he could yet see the ruddy glow upon the water before him.

Half-way there, he heard a shout:

"Who's there!"

It was in a big bluff voice, which Dick recognised at once.

"That you, Hicky? Fire! fire!"

"Ay, my lad, I was coming to rouse up the folk. You go that end, I'll do this. Hey! Fire! Fire!"

He battered cottage door after cottage door, Dick following his example, with the result that in their alarm the people came hurrying out like bees whose hive has been disturbed by a heavy blow.

There was no need to ask questions. Every man, while the women began to wail and cry, started for the Tallingtons' farm; but they were brought up by a shout from the squire.

"What are you going to do, men?" he cried.

"The fire!"--"help!"--"water!"--rose in a confused babble.

"Back, every one of you, and get a bucket!" cried the squire. "You, Hickathrift, run into the wood-house and bring an axe."

"Aw, reight, squire!" cried the wheelwright, and in another minute every man was off at a trot following Dick's father, and all armed with a weapon likely to be of service against the enemy which was rapidly conquering the prosperous little farm at Grimsey.

Two miles form a long distance in a case of emergency, and before the party were half-way there they began to grow breathless, and there was a disposition evinced to drop into a walk. One or two of those in advance checked their rate, others followed, and for the next two or three hundred yards the rescuers kept to a foot-pace, breathing heavily the while, and speaking in snatches.

"Which is it, Dick--the house or the great stack?"

"I can't see, father," panted the lad; "sometimes it seems one, sometimes both."

"Stacks, squire, I think," cried Hickathrift. "I don't think house is afire yet, but it must catch the thack before long."

The faint sound of a dog barking at a distance now reached their ears, but it was evidently not from the direction of the farm, and the squire's thoughts were put into words by Dick, who, as he looked on now between his father and the wheelwright, exclaimed in a hoarse voice:

"Why, father, don't they know that the place is on fire?"

"Nay, that they don't," cried the wheelwright excitedly. "They're all asleep."

"Let's run faster," cried Dick.

"No. We have a long way to go yet," cried the squire, "and if we run faster we shall be too much exhausted to help."

"But, father--oh, it is so dreadful!" cried Dick, as in imagination he pictured horror after horror.

"Can you run, Dick--faster?"

"Yes, father, yes."

"I can't," panted Hickathrift; "I've growed too heavy."

"Run on, then, and shout and batter the door. We'll get up as quickly as we can."

"Ay, roon, Master Dick, roon!" cried the wheelwright. "Fire's ketched the thack."

Dick doubled his fists, drew a long breath, and made a rush, which took him fifty yards in advance. Then he trotted on at the same pace as the others; rushed again; and so on at intervals, getting well ahead of the rest. But never, in the many times he had been to and fro, had he so thoroughly realised how rough and awkward was the track, and how long it took to get to Grimsey farm.

As he ran on, it was with the fire glowing more brightly in his face, and the various objects growing more distinct, while there was something awful in the terrible silence that seemed to prevail, in the midst of which a great body of fire steadily rose, in company with a cloud of smoke, which was spangled with tiny flakes that seemed to be of gold. Tree, shed, barn, and chimney-stack, too, seemed to have been turned to the brilliant metal; but to the lad's great relief he saw that the wheelwright was wrong, the "thack" had not caught, and so far the house was safe, though the burning stacks were so near that at any moment the roof of the reed-thatched house might begin to blaze.

At last there was a sound--one that might have been going on before, but kept by the distance from reaching Dick's ear--a cock crowed loudly, and there was a loud cackling from the barn where the fowls roosted.

Then came the lowing of a cow; but all was perfectly still at the house, and it seemed astounding that no one should have been alarmed.

Only another hundred yards or so and the farm would be reached. Dick had settled down to a much slower speed. There was a sensation as if the fire that shone in his face had made his breath scorching, so that it burned his chest, while his feet were being weighted with lead.

"Tom!" he tried to shout as he drew near; but his voice was a hoarse whisper, and it seemed to be drowned by the steady beat of the feet behind upon the road.

"Tom!" he cried again, but with no better result, as he staggered on by the wide drain which ran right up to the farm buildings from the big pool in the fen where the reeds were cut.

And now that full drain and the pool gleamed golden, as if they too were turned to fire, as Dick pushed by, realising that the hay-stack, the great seed-stack, and the little stack of oats were blazing together, not furiously, but with the flame rising up in a steady silent manner which was awful.

There was a rough piece of stone in the way, against which Dick caught his foot and nearly fell; but he saved himself, stooped, and picked up the stone; and as he panted up to the long low red-brick farm, he hurled it through a window on his left, and then fell up against, more than stopped at, the door, against which he beat and kicked with all his might.

The crashing in of the leaded pane casement had, however, acted like the key which had unlocked the silent farmstead.

Tom Tallington rushed to the window.

"Who's--"

He would probably have said "that," but he turned his sentence into the cry of "Fire! fire!"

The alarm spread in an instant. Farmer Tallington's window was thrown open; and as he realised all, he dashed back, and then the rest of the party came panting up, and Hickathrift cried, "Stand clear, Mester Dick!"

He threw himself against the door, to burst it open, just as the farmer came down, half carrying his wife wrapped in a blanket, and Tom ran out, to dart down to the end of the long low building where a second tenement formed the sleeping-place of the two men and a big lad who worked upon the farm.

They were already aroused, and came out hurrying on their clothes, while the squire and Hickathrift got out the women, who, with Mrs Tallington, were hurried into a cart-shed.

"Why, neighbour, you'd have been burned in your bed!" cried the squire. "Now, lads, all of you form line."

"She's caught now!" shouted Hickathrift, who had been round to the back.

"Then we must put it out," said the squire, as he busily ranged his men, and those of Farmer Tallington, so that they reached from the nearest point of the big drain to the corner of the farm, and in a double line, so that full buckets of water could be passed along one and returned empty along the other.

"Hickathrift, you go and dip."

"Ay, ay, squire!" roared the great fellow, and he rushed down to the water's edge like a bull, while the squire went to the other end.

"Neighbour," cried Farmer Tallington excitedly, "you'll go on, wean't you? I must get in and bring out a few writings and things I'd like to save."

"Here, Tom, let's you and me get out the clothes and things."

"Yes, and the small bits of furniture, boys," cried the squire. "Now, my lads, ready!"

There was a general shout from the men, who fell into their places with the promptitude that always follows when they have a good leader.

"Get all you can out in case," shouted the squire; "but we're going to save the house."

"Hurrah!" shouted the men as they heard this bold assertion, which the squire supplemented by saying between his teeth, "Please God!"

"Bring up that ladder," cried the squire--"two of them."

These were planted against the end of the house, and none too soon, for the corner nearest the burning stacks was beginning to blaze furiously, and the fire steadily running up, while a peculiar popping and crackling began to be heard as the flames attacked the abundant ivy which mounted quite to the chimney-stack.

"Ho! ho! ho! ho!" came now from the front of the cart-shed in a regular bellowing cry.

"What is it, wench--what is it?" cried Farmer Tallington, as he hurried out of the burning house, laden with valuables, which he handed to his quiet business-like wife.

"My best Sunday frock! Oh, my best Sunday frock!" sobbed the red-faced servant lass.

"Yes, and oh my stacks! and oh my farm!" cried her master, as he ran back into the house after a glance at the squire, who, in the midst of a loud cheering, stood right up with one foot on the ladder, one on the thatched roof, and sent the first bucket of water, with a good spreading movement, as far as he could throw it, and handed back the bucket.

The flames hissed and danced, and there was a rush of steam all along the ridge, but the water seemed to be licked up directly.

Another was dashed on and the bucket passed back, and another, and another; but the effect produced was so little that, after distributing about a dozen which the wheelwright sent along the line, making the men work eagerly, as he plunged the buckets into the drain and brought them dripping out, the squire shouted, "Hold hard!" and descended to change the position of the long ladder he was on by dragging out the foot till it was at such an angle that the implement now lay flat upon the thatch, so that anyone could walk right up to the chimney-stack.

"Now, then!" cried the squire, mounting once more. "We want another flood just now, my lads, but as there isn't one we must make it."

"It arn't safe," muttered one of the men. "See theer, lad!"

The others needed no telling, as the speaker, who had followed the squire on to the roof so as to be within reach, now felt the flames scorch him, though what he had alluded to was the top of the ladder which was beginning to burn where it lay on the burning thatch, and crackling and blazing out furiously.

_Whizz-hizz_ rose from the water as the first bucket was thrown with such effect that the ladder ceased to burn, and, undismayed by the smoke and flame that floated towards him, the latter in separated patches with a strange fluttering noise, the squire scattered the water from his advantageous position, and with good effect, though that part of the house was now burning fast, the fire having eaten its way through the thatch into the room below.

Meanwhile, as the burning stacks made the whole place light as day, Dick and Tom rushed in and out of the house, bringing everything of value upon which they could lay their hands, to pass their salvage to Mrs Tallington and the women, who stored them in a heap where they seemed safe from the flames.

"Look at that, Tom!" cried Dick, as he paused for a few moments to get breath, and watch his father where he stood high up on the burning roof, like some hero battling with a fiery dragon.

"Yes, I see," said Tom in an ill-used tone.

"Isn't it grand?" cried Dick. "I wish I was up there. Don't it make one proud of one's father?"

"I don't see any more to be proud of in your father than in mine," said Tom stoutly. "Your father wouldn't dare to go into that burning house like mine does. See there!"

This was as Farmer Tallington rushed into the house again.

Dick turned sharply upon his companion.

"There isn't time to have it out now, Tom," he said in a whisper; "but I mean to punch your head for this, you ungrateful beggar. Afraid to go into the house! Why, I'm not afraid to do that. Come on!"

He ran into the house and Tom followed, for them both to come out again bearing the old eight-day clock.

"Its easy, that's what it is," said Dick. "Hooray, father!" he shouted, "you'll win!"

It did not seem as if the squire would win, for though he was gradually being successful in extinguishing the burning thatch, the great waves of fire which came floating from the blazing stacks licked up the moisture and compelled him from time to time to retreat.

Fortunately, however, the supply of water was ample, and, thanks to the way in which Hickathrift dipped the buckets and encouraged the men as he passed them along, the thatch became so saturated that by the time quite a stack had been made of the indoor valuables there seemed to be a chance to leave the steaming roof and attack the burning stacks.

This was done, the ladder being left ready in case of the thatch catching fire again; and soon the squire was standing as close as he could get to the nearest stack, and sending in the contents of the buckets.

There was no hope of saving this, but every bucket of water promised to keep down the great flashes of fire which floated off and licked at the farm-house roof as they passed slowly on.

It was a glorious sight. Everything glowed in the golden light, and a fiery snowstorm seemed to be sweeping over the farm buildings, as the excited people worked, each dash of water producing a cloud of steam over which roared up, as it were, a discharge of fireworks.

For some time no impression whatever appeared to be made, but no one thought of leaving his position; the squire and those nearest to him were black and covered with perspiration, their faces shining in the brilliant light, and the leader was still emptying the buckets of water, when Farmer Tallington ran up to him.

"Let me give you a rest now," he cried.

"Nay, neighbour, I'll go on."

The friendly altercation seemed to be about to result in a struggle for the bucket, when Dick, who had been in one of the back rooms, came running out of the house shouting:--

"The stable--the stable is on fire!"

This caused a rush in the direction of the long low-thatched building on the other side of the house, one of a range about a yard.

There was no false alarm, for the thatch was blazing so furiously, that at a glance the lookers-on saw that the stable and the cart lodge adjoining were doomed.

"Did any one get out the horses?" roared Farmer Tallington.

There was no answer, and the farmer rushed on up to the burning building through tiny patches of fire where the dry mouldering straw was set alight by the falling flakes.

The squire followed him, and, seeing them enter the dark doorway, Dick and Tom followed.

It was a long low building with room for a dozen horses; but only two were there, standing right at the end, where they were haltered to the rough mangers, and snorted and whinnied with fear.

Each man ran to the head of a horse, and cut the halters, lit by the glow that came through a great hole burned in the thatched roof, from which flakes of fire kept falling, while the smoke curled round and up the walls and beneath the roof in a silent threatening way.

It was easy enough to unloose the trembling beasts; but that was all that could be done, for the horses shivered and snorted, and refused to stir.

Both shouted and dragged at the halters; but the poor beasts seemed to be paralysed with fear; and as the moments glided by, the hole in the roof was being eaten out larger and larger, the great flakes of burning thatch falling faster, and a pile of blazing rafter and straw beginning to cut off retreat from the burning place.

"It's of no use," cried Farmer Tallington, after trying coaxing, main force, and then blows. "The roof will be down directly. Run, boys, run!"

"You are coming too, father?" cried Tom.

"Yes, and you, father?" cried Dick.

"Yes, my lads; out with you!"

"Try once more, father," said Dick. "The poor old horses!"

"Yes, but run!" cried the squire. "I must run too. Off!"

There was a rush made through the burning mass fallen from the roof; and, scorched and half-blind, they reached the door half-blocked by the anxious men.

"Safe!" cried the farmer. "Here: where's squire?"

As the words left his mouth there was a fierce snorting and trampling, and those at the door had only just time to draw back, as the two horses dashed frantically out, and then tore off at full gallop across the yard.

"Winthorpe!" cried Farmer Tallington. "This way!"

"Father!" cried Dick in an agonised voice, following the farmer into the burning building; but only to be literally carried out by his companion, as they were driven back by a tremendous gush of burning thatch and wood which roared out of the great doorway consequent upon a mass of the roof falling in.

As soon as he could recover himself, Dick turned to rush in again; but he was checked by Hickathrift.

"Stand back, bairn! art mad?" he cried. "Not that way."

Dick staggered away, and nearly fell from the tremendous thrust given to him by the big wheelwright, and as he regained his equilibrium, it was to see Hickathrift with something flashing in his hand, making for the other end of the stable, which was as yet untouched.

A few blows from the axe he carried made the rough mud wall collapse, and, without a moment's hesitation Hickathrift forced his way through the hole he had broken, and from which a great volume of smoke began to curl.

Dick would have followed; but Tom clung to his arm, and before he could get free, during what seemed to be a terribly long period of suspense, the wheelwright appeared again, and staggered out, bearing the insensible body of the squire.

For a few minutes there was a terrible silence, and Hickathrift tottered from the man he had left where he had dragged him on the ground.

For the wheelwright was blinded and half strangled by the smoke, and reeled like a drunken man.

He recovered though, directly, and seized a bucket of water from one of the men. With this he liberally dashed the squire's face, as Dick knelt beside him in speechless agony, and grasped his hand.

For a few minutes there was no sign. Then the prostrate man uttered a low sigh, and opened his eyes.

"Dick!" he said, as he struggled up.

"Yes, father. Are you much hurt?"

"No, only--nearly--suffocated, my boy; but--but--Oh, I remember! The horses?"

"They're safe, neighbour," cried Farmer Tallington, taking his hand.

"Mind the knife!" cried the squire. "I remember now. I was obliged to be very brutal to them to make them stir."

He looked down at the small blade of the pocket-knife he held, closed it with a snap, and then stared about him at the people in a vacant confused way.

Several of the men, led by Hickathrift, began to carry pails of water to the burning stable, and this building being so low, they were not long in extinguishing the flames.

Hardly had they succeeded in this before the shrieks of the women gathered together in a low shed drew their attention to the fact that the roof of the house was once more blazing, and this seemed to rouse the squire again to action, for, in spite of Hickathrift wanting to take his place, he insisted upon re-climbing the ladder when the buckets of water were once more passed along till all further danger had ceased, and the farm-house escaped with one room seriously damaged and one side of the thatched roof burned away.

The men still plied the buckets on the burning stacks, but only with the idea of keeping the flames within bounds, for there was nothing else to be done. One rick was completely destroyed; the others were fiery cores, which glowed in the darkness, and at every puff of wind sent up a cloud of glittering, golden sparks, whose course had to be watched lest a fresh fire should be started.

And now the excitement and confusion died out as the fire sank lower. The women returned to the house, and the men, under the farmer's direction, carried back the household treasures, while Mrs Tallington, with the common sense of an old-fashioned farmer's wife, spread a good breakfast in the kitchen for the refreshment of all.

It was a desolate scene at daybreak upon which all gazed. The half-burned roof of the farm-house, the three smoking heaps where the three stacks had stood, and the stable roofless and blackened, while the place all about the house was muddy with the water and trampling.

"Yes," said Farmer Tallington ruefully, "it'll tak' some time to set all this straight; but I've got my house safe, so mustn't complain."

"Yes; might have been worse," said the squire quietly.

"Ay, neighbour, I began to think at one time," said Farmer Tallington, "that it was going to be very much worse, and that I was going to have to bear sad news across to the Toft; but we're spared that, squire, and I'm truly thankful. Feel better?"

"Better! oh yes, I am not hurt!"

Just then Dick asked a question:

"I say, Mr Tallington, wasn't it strange that you didn't know of the fire till I came?"

"I suppose we were all too soundly asleep, my lad. Lucky you saw it, or we might have been burned to death."

"But how did the place catch fire?"

"Ah!" said Farmer Tallington, "that's just what I should like to know.-- Were you out there last night, Tom?" he added after a pause.

"No, father, I wasn't near the stacks yesterday."

"Had you been round there at all?" said the squire.

"No, not for a day or two, neighbour. It's a puzzler."

"It is very strange!" said the squire thoughtfully; and he and Farmer Tallington looked hard at each other. "You have had no quarrel with your men?"

"Quarrel! No. Got as good labourers as a man could wish for. So have you."

"Yes, I have," said the squire; "but those stacks could not catch fire by accident. Has anybody threatened you?"

"No," replied the farmer thoughtfully. "No! Say, neighbour--no, they wouldn't do that."

The wheelwright had come up, and stood listening to what was said.

"What do you mean?" said the squire.

"Oh! nothing. 'Tisn't fair to think such things."

"Never mind! Speak out, man, speak out!"

"Well, I was wondering whether some one had done this, just as a hint that we were giving offence by joining in the drain business."

"No, no!" cried the squire indignantly. "People may grumble and be dissatisfied; but, thank Heaven, we haven't any one in these parts bad enough to do such a thing as that, eh, Hickathrift?"

"I dunno 'bout bad enew," said the big wheelwright; "but strikes me Farmer Tallington's right. That stack couldn't set itself afire, and get bont up wi'out some one striking a light!"

"No, no!" said the squire. "I will not think such a thing of any neighbour for twenty miles round. Now, Mr Tallington, come over to my place and have a comfortable meal; Mrs Tallington will come too."

"Nay, we'll stop and try to put things right."

"Shall I lend you a couple of men?"

"Nay, we'll wuck it oot oursens, and thank you all hearty for what you've done. If your farm gets alight, neighbour, we'll come over as you have to us."

"May the demand never arise!" said the squire to himself, as he and his party trudged away, all looking as blackened and disreputable a set as ever walked homeward on an early winter's morn.

Dick had made a good meal, and removed the black from his face after deciding that it would not be worth while to go to bed, when, as he went down the yard and caught sight of Solomon, he stopped to stare at the cunning animal, who seemed to be working about his ears like semaphores.

"I've a good mind to make him take me for a long ride!" said Dick to himself. "No, I haven't. Somehow a lad doesn't care for riding a donkey when he gets as old as I am."

He walked away, feeling stiff, chilly, and uncomfortable from the effects of his previous night's work, while his eyes smarted and ached.

"I'll go over and see how old Tom's getting on," he said as he looked across the cheerless fen in the direction of Grimsey, where a faint line of smoke rose up toward the sky. "Wonder who did it!"

_Plash_! _plash_! _plash_! _plash_!

He turned sharply, to see, about a hundred yards away, the figure of gaunt, grim-looking Dave standing up in his punt, and poling himself along by the dry rustling reeds, a grey-drab looking object in a grey-drab landscape.

Then, like a flash, came to the lad's memory the engagement made to go liggering that day, and he wondered why it was that he did not feel more eager to have a day's fishing for the pike.

_Pee-wit_! _pee-wit_! came from off the water in a low plaintive whistle, which Dick answered, and in a minute or two the decoy-man poled his boat ashore, smiling in his tight, dry way.

"Now, then, young mester," he said, "I've got a straange nice lot o' bait and plenty o' hooks and band, and it's about as good a day for fishing as yow could have. Wheer's young Tom o' Grimsey?"

"At home, of course!" said Dick in a snappish way, which he wondered at himself.

"At home, o' course?" said Dave quietly as he stood up in the boat resting upon the pole. "Why, he were to be here, ready."

"How could he be ready after last night?" said Dick sharply.

Dave took off his fox-skin cap after letting his pole fall into the hollow of his arm, and scratched his head before uttering a low cachinnatory laugh that was not pleasant to the ear.

"Yow seem straange and popped [put out of temper] this morning, young mester. Young Tom o' Grimsey and you been hewing a bit of a fight?"

"Fight! no, Dave; the fire!"

"Eh?" said the man, staring.

"The fire! Don't you know that Grimsey was nearly all burned down last night?"

Dave loosened his hold of his pole, which fell into the water with a splash.

"Grimsey! bont down!" he exclaimed, and his lower jaw dropped and showed his yellow teeth, but only to recover himself directly and pick up the pole. "Yah!" he snarled; "what's the good o' saying such a word as that? He's a hidin' behind them reeds. Now, then, lad, days is short! Coom out! I can see you!"

He looked in the direction of a patch of reeds and alders as he spoke, and helped himself to a pill of opium from his box.

"Tom Tallington isn't there, Dave!" cried Dick. "I tell you there was a bad fire at Grimsey last night!"

"Nay, lad, you don't mean it!" cried Dave, impressed now by the boy's earnestness.

"There was! Look! you can see the smoke rising now."

Dave looked as the lad pointed, and then said softly:

"Hey! bud theer is the roke [smoke or vapour] sewer enough!"

"Didn't you see it last night?"

"Nay, lad; I fished till I couldn't see, for the baits, and then went home and fitted the hooks on to the bands and see to the blethers, and then I happed mysen oop and went to sleep."

"And heard and saw nothing of the fire?"

"Nay, I see nowt, lad. Two mile to my plaace from here and two mile from here to Grimsey, mak's four mile. Nay, I heered nowt!"

"Of course you wouldn't, Dave! The light shone in at my window and woke me up, and we were all there working with buckets to put it out!"

"Wucking wi' boockets!" said Dave slowly as he stared in the direction of Tallington's farm. "Hey, but I wish I'd been theer!"

"I wish you had, Dave!"

"Did she blaaze much, mun?"

"Blaze! why, everything was lit up, and the smoke and sparks flew in clouds!"

"Did it, though?" said Dave thoughtfully. "Now, look here, lad," he continued, taking out his tobacco-box; "some on 'em says a man shouldn't tak' his bit o' opium, and that he should smoke 'bacco. I say it's wrong. If I smoked 'bacco some night I should set my plaace afire, 'stead o' just rolling up a bit o' stoof and clapping it in my mooth."

"I don't know what you mean, Dave," cried Dick.

"Then I'll tell'ee, lad. Some un got smoking his pipe in one of they stables, and set it afire."

"No, no; some one must have set fire to the stacks."

"Nay!" cried Dave, staring in the lad's face with his jaw dropped.

"Yes; that was it, and father thinks it was."

"Not one o' the men, lad; nay, not one o' the men!" cried Dave.

"No, but some one who doesn't like the drain made, and that it was done out of spite."

Dave whisked up his pole and struck with it at the water, sending it flying in all directions, and then made a stab with it as if to strike some one in the chest and drive him under water.

"Nay, nay, nay," he cried, "no one would do owt o' the soort, lad. Nay, nay, nay."

"Ah, well, I don't know!" cried Dick. "All I know is that the stacks were burnt."

"Weer they, lad?"

"Yes, and the stables."

Dave made a clucking noise with his tongue.

"And the house had a narrow escape."

"Hey, bud it's straange; and will Tallington hev to flit [move, change residence] then?"

"No; the house is right all but one room."

"Eh, bud I'm straange and glad o' that, lad. Well, we can't goo liggering to-day, lad. It wouldn't be neighbourly."

"No, I shouldn't care to go to-day, Dave, and without Tom. What are you going to do?"

"Throost the punt along as far as I can, and when I've gotten to the end o' the watter tie her oop to the pole, and walk over to see the plaace."

"I'll come with you, Dave."

"Hey, do, lad, and you can tell me all about it as we go. Jump in."

Dick wanted no second invitation, and the decoy-man sent the punt along rapidly, and by following one of the lanes of water pursued a devious course toward Grimsey, whose blackened ruins now began to come into sight.

Dick talked away about the events of the night, but Dave became more and more silent as they landed and approached the farm where people were moving about busily.

"Nay," he said at last, "it weer some one smoking. Nobody would hev set fire to the plaace. Why, they might hev been all bont in their beds."

Tom Tallington saw them coming and ran out.

"Why, Dave," he cried, "I'd forgotten all about the fishing, but we can't go now."

"Nay, we couldn't go now," said the man severely. "'Twouldn't be neighbourly."

Tom played the part of showman, and took them round the place, which looked very muddy and desolate by day.

"I say, Dick, do you know how your father made the horses come out?" he said, as they approached the barn, which had been turned into a stable.

"Hit 'em, I suppose, the stupid, cowardly brutes!"

"No; hitting them wouldn't have made them move. He pricked them with the point of his knife."

"Did he, though?" said Dave, who manifested all the interest of one who had not been present.

At last he took his departure.

"Soon as you like, lads," he said; "soon as it's a fine day. I'll save the baits, and get some frogs too. Big pike like frogs. Theer's another girt one lies off a reed patch I know on. I shall be ashore every day till you're ready."

He nodded to them, and pushed off.

"You won't go without us, Dave?" said Dick, as the boat glided away.

"Nay, not I," was the reply; and the boys watched him till he poled in among the thin dry winter reeds, through which he seemed to pass in a shadowy way, and then disappear. _

Read next: Chapter 10. A Trimmering Expedition

Read previous: Chapter 8. The Drain Progresses

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