g out of
his house in the middle of the night. He had a boat, as most of the fen
farmers had, for gunning, fishing, and cutting reeds. What was he doing
on the water at night? For it must have been he with a light.

Then a terrible suspicion flashed across him, and the vague ideas began
to shape themselves and grow solid. Suppose it was Farmer Tallington
who had been guilty of--

Dick made a strong effort at this point to master his wandering
imagination, and forced himself to think only of what he really knew to
be the fact, namely, that Farmer Tallington was out somewhere, and that
the squire was out too.

"My father must have come to meet yours, Dick," whispered Tom at that
point. "I know they suspect there's something wrong, and they have gone
down to watch the drain, or to meet Mr Marston."

"Yes," said Dick, in a tone which did not carry conviction with it.
"That must be it."

"What shall we do? Go back to bed?"

"Ye-es, we had better," said Dick thoughtfully. "I say, Tom, we have
done quite right. We couldn't have gone away."

"Hist! did you hear that?"

For answer Dick strained out of the window. He had heard that--a sudden
splashing in the water, a shout--and the next moment there was a flash
which cut the darkness apparently a couple of hundred yards away, and
then came a dull report, and silence.

The boys remained listening for some moments, but they could not hear a
sound. The signs of the coming morning were growing plainer; there was
a faint twittering in some bushes at a distance, followed by the sharp
metallic _chink chink_ of a blackbird; and then all at once, loud and
clear from the farm-yard, rang out the morning challenge of a cock.

Then once more all was still. There was no footstep, no splash of pole
in the water.

For a few minutes neither spoke, but listened intently with every nerve
upon the strain; and then with a catching of the breath as he realised
what had gone before, and that he had seen his father steal carefully
down in the direction of the mere, Dick sprang from the window and
gripped his companion by the arm.

"Tom," he gasped, "quick! come on! Some one else has been--"

He would have said _shot_, but his voice failed, and with a cold chill
of horror stealing over him he remained for a few moments as if
paralysed.

Then, with Tom Tallington close behind, he ran swiftly down towards the
mere.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

THE NEW HORROR.

They did not kn