Dick o' the Fens Part 25

"Ay! One as likes duck for dinner. He'll eat him without picking his feathers off."

"Wasn't it a very big one, Dave?" cried Tom.

"Ay, lad, a thirty-pounder like enew," said Dave, working his pole.

"Dave, shall you know this place again?" cried d.i.c.k.

"Should I know my own hand!"

"Then let's come over and try for that fellow to-morrow or next day."

"Right, lad! I'll come. We'll set some liggers, and I dessay we can get hold of him. If we can't theer's plenty more."

"To-morrow, Dave?"

"Nay, I shall be getting off my ducks. Two hundred wants some seeing to."

"Next day, then?"

"Say Sat.u.r.day, my lads. That'll give me time to get a few baits."

So Sat.u.r.day was appointed for the day with the pike, and the ducks and the boys were duly landed, the latter to go homeward with four couples each, and d.i.c.k with strict orders to ask the squire whether he wanted any more, before they were sent off in Hickathrift's car to the town.

CHAPTER NINE.

d.i.c.k IS CALLED EARLY.

It was Friday night. d.i.c.k 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 fis.h.i.+ng, 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 d.i.c.k.

"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 fas.h.i.+on 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, d.i.c.k," said the squire. "Knows a deal about antiquities. Little too old for a companion for you, but people who collect b.u.t.terflies and nettles and flowers generally mix regardless of age."

"Do you think the people about will interfere with the works, father?"

said d.i.c.k, as they trudged along homeward.

"No, I don't, d.i.c.k," said the squire. "I should like to catch them at it."

d.i.c.k 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 pa.s.sed 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 s.h.i.+ne right in upon his face.

For the sun called d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k 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 e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed; 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 d.i.c.k, hoa.r.s.ely.

He heard a thump on the floor, a hasty e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n 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, d.i.c.k!" shouted his father, "run down and rouse up the people at the cottages."

d.i.c.k ran out, and down past the old Priory ruins, to where a cl.u.s.ter 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 d.i.c.k 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, d.i.c.k 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.