Dick o' the Fens Part 78

"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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k, 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, d.i.c.k 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 pa.s.sed 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 d.i.c.k 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, d.i.c.k, if I only knew who it was did these things I think I could kill him!"

d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k, 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 blus.h.i.+ng, as it were, with the warm glow from the sky; but now, as they drew nearer and pa.s.sed 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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k.

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 ash.o.r.e, as their old fis.h.i.+ng and trapping friend came slowly to meet them.

"How was it, Dave?" cried d.i.c.k.

"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 d.i.c.k, 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 d.i.c.k.

"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 d.i.c.k; 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 d.i.c.k, just as if we weren't reight before."

"It's very, very sad, Dave."