Dick o' the Fens Part 88

"'Your turn now, squire,' I says to him," whispered the wheelwright.

"'Ay,' he says, 'my turn now. Who fired that shot?'

"'Oh! some un here,' I says. 'We thought we seed him as did it going off in the poont, but it was so dark we couldn't be sure.'

"Squire didn't ask no more, for there was too much to do getting out your moother, lad, and trying to save the furnitur, 'sides throwing watter on the fire.

"Bud, theer, it warn't no use. Plaace burned like a bit o' paaper, and we could do nowt bud save the best o' the things."

"Did you save the clock?" asked d.i.c.k.

"Ay, lad, I carried it out mysen, just as Mr Marston come oop wi' a lot of his lads, and Farmer Tallington come from t'other way; and we saved all we could, and got out the beasts and horses, but t'owd plaace is bont out."

"And where is mother?"

"All reight along o' my missus, bless her; and when we see we could do no more, squire began about who done it."

"Yes: go on."

"Well, theer's nowt much to say, lad, only that soon as squire knowd who it weer he--"

"But how did he know who it was?" cried d.i.c.k.

"Some un towd him."

"Yes, but who told?"

"Him as fired his goon at him when he see'd him by the light o' the fire poling along in his poont."

"And who was that?"

"Nay, lad, I'm not going to tell thee. Some un as thowt he desarved a shot for setting fire to folks's houses and shooting honest men. Some folk don't stop to think. If they've got goons in their hands, and sees varmen running away, they oops wi' the goon and shutes, and that's what some un did. Thou'lt know who it weer one day."

"And he told my father?"

"It weer our Jacob towd squire. He sin his faace quite plain, and that it weer Dave."

"Now, Marston, where for next?" shouted the squire, after taking a long look round over the open water, now illumined by the sun.

"Try that island yonder," was the reply. "There's a hut among the low fir-trees, and I fancy it is his making."

The boats were turned in the suggested direction, and d.i.c.k felt a curious sensation of nervous dread stealing over him as he thought of seeing that hut not long before, and of how likely it was that Mr Marston was right.

A strange sense of shock and horror came over d.i.c.k as he now seemed to realise, for the first time, that he was one of a party engaged in hunting down Dave Gittan, the man who had always been to him as a friend, the companion of endless excursions over the mere; and his heart sank within him as he glanced round in search of an opportunity to land and get away from the horrible pursuit.

But there was no escape, for he knew that the pursuers would not turn backward, and he glanced helplessly at where he could see Tom Tallington's face in the farther of the other boats, and responded to his wave of the hand.

There was a stern relentless look in every face he saw, and he thought of how his father and Mr Marston had been shot, how first one and then another had been nearly burned in his bed, while their property was destroyed, and he felt the justice of the severe looks. But all the same there was a lingering liking for Dave, and he felt disposed to stand up in his defence and say it was impossible that he could have done these things, though all the time, as he ran over the matters in his mind, he began to recall various suspicious incidents, and to think that, perhaps, they were right.

One thing buoyed him up though, and that was the thought that they were not going straight to the decoy-man's hut, and perhaps through this delay he might escape.

It was a vain hope, one which was swept away directly after, for Hickathrift whispered:

"We went straight to his plaace to try and ketch him, but he slipped away in his poont, and dodged us about in the dark, till Mester Marston held out that he was makking for the far part of the fen, and we followed him theer, but lost all sound on him, and then you know, Mester d.i.c.k, we fun you."

With a stern effort to be firm d.i.c.k watched the progress of the punt toward the island that was to have been his abode when he felt huffed at home, and wondered whether Dave were there now.

"He isn't there," thought d.i.c.k; and he turned to telegraph a look at Tom Tallington, who he felt sure would be as anxious as himself about Dave's escape.

"Do you want Tom Tallington?" said his father, who, though apparently paying no attention, had noted every exchange of glances.

"Yes, father; there is more room here," said d.i.c.k boldly.

The squire made a sign to Hickathrift, who ceased poling, and the other two boats came up on either side.

"Come in here, Tom," said d.i.c.k eagerly.

Tom obeyed with alacrity and stepped on board, while in short decisive tones the squire spoke:

"We will divide now, and approach on three sides. You, Marston, and you, Tallington, get well over so as to command a view all round, for this man must not escape."

"Escape! No!" said Farmer Tallington fiercely.

"If he is there, I don't think he will escape," said Mr Marston sternly.

"Hah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the squire; "that is one reason why I waited for you both to come up. Now, gentlemen, and you, my good fellows, listen.

There must be no violence."

"No violence, eh!" said Farmer Tallington. "Didn't he bon my place?"

"And shoot me?" said Mr Marston sternly.

"Yes, and his is evidently the hand which has committed a score of outrages, but all the same we must act as if we were the officers of the law: seize, bind, and hand him over to justice unhurt."

There was a low murmur from the drain-men in Mr Marston's boat.

"Yes, and that is why I speak," said the squire firmly. "I am leader here, and I insist upon this man being taken uninjured. Let the law deal with him. It is not our duty to punish him for the crimes."

There was another low murmur here, but the squire paid no heed and went on:

"In the first place, not a shot is to be fired."

"Not if he shutes at us?" cried Farmer Tallington.

"No: not even if he fires at any of us. If he should draw trigger, rush in and seize him before he has time to reload, and then, with no more violence than is necessary, let him be bound."

"Well," said Farmer Tallington, "perhaps you're reight neighbour; and as long as he is punished I don't know as I mind much how it's done."

"Then we all understand each other, and you, my men, I shall hold you answerable for any injury this man receives."