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But your father looks sadly, Mester Tom, sir. He don't wear as I should like to see un. "Rheumatism, Hicky; that's all. He'll be better soon. I say, what's that a summer-house?" said Tom, pointing. "That, Mester Tom! Why, you know?" "Why, it's the old punt!" cried Dick. "Ay, it's the owd poont, Mester Dick. What games yow did hev in her too, eh?" "Yes, Hicky," said Dick with a sigh.
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 Dick, we fun you."
"To eat! no, sir," cried his father sternly. "What are you doing here?" "I lost myself, father, and went to sleep woke up in the darkness, and couldn't stir. Morning, Hicky!" "Wheer's my poont?" said the wheelwright. "Close round here somewhere," said Dick. "Go on and we shall find it. But where was the fire?"
"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 Dick. "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.
There's the poont and welcome, but no gun." Dick knew the wheelwright too well to persevere; and in his heart he could not help admiring the man's stern sense of honesty; so making up his mind to be content with some fishing and a good wander in the untrodden parts of the fen, he asked Hickathrift to get him some baits with his cast-net. "Ay, I'll soon get them for you, my lad," said Hickathrift.
"Ah! those were happy days." "They weer, lad; they weer. Owd poont got dry and cracked, and of no use bud to go on the dreern, and who wanted to go on a dreern as had been used to the mere?" "No one, of course," said Dick, gazing across the fields and meadows where he had once propelled the punt.
"And did you see it, mester?" said Hickathrift. "Nay, my lad. I went on and on as quietly as I could go, and round the reed-bed, but all was as quiet as could be." "Didn't you see the poont?" said the wheelwright. "What punt?" said Tom sharply. Hickathrift looked confused. "Poont o' him as hed the light, I meant," he said hurriedly.
"`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.
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.
"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."
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