l said," replied Shelton. "Little I reck."

"Your lady wife is like to have a pleasant lord," said Matcham.

"She shall have the lord Heaven made her for," returned Dick. "I trow
there be worse as well as better."

"Ah, the poor wench!" cried the other.

"And why so poor?" asked Dick.

"To wed a man of wood," replied his companion. "O me, for a wooden
husband!"

"I think I be a man of wood, indeed," said Dick, "to trudge afoot the
while you ride my horse; but it is good wood, I trow."

"Good Dick, forgive me," cried the other. "Nay, y'are the best heart in
England; I but laughed. Forgive me now, sweet Dick."

"Nay, no fool words," returned Dick, a little embarrassed by his
companion's warmth. "No harm is done. I am not touchy, praise the
saints."

And at that moment the wind, which was blowing straight behind them as
they went, brought them the rough flourish of Sir Daniel's trumpeter.

"Hark!" said Dick, "the tucket soundeth."

"Ay," said Matcham, "they have found my flight, and now I am unhorsed!"
and he became pale as death.

"Nay, what cheer!" returned Dick. "Y' have a long start, and we are near
the ferry. And it is I, methinks, that am unhorsed."

"Alack, I shall be taken!" cried the fugitive. "Dick, kind Dick, beseech
ye help me but a little!"

"Why, now, what aileth thee?" said Dick. "Methinks I help you very
patently. But my heart is sorry for so spiritless a fellow! And see ye
here, John Matcham--sith John Matcham is your name--I, Richard Shelton,
tide what betideth, come what may, will see you safe in Holywood. The
saints so do to me again if I default you. Come, pick me up a good
heart, Sir Whiteface. The way betters here; spur me the horse. Go
faster! faster! Nay, mind not for me; I can run like a deer."

So, with the horse trotting hard, and Dick running easily alongside,
they crossed the remainer of the fen, and came out upon the banks of the
river by the ferryman's hut.

CHAPTER III

THE FEN FERRY

The river Till was a wide, sluggish, clayey water, oozing out of fens,
and in this part of its course it strained among some score of
willow-covered, marshy islets.

It was a dingy stream; but upon this bright, spirited morning everything
was become beautiful. The wind and the martens broke it up into
innumerable dimples; and the reflection of the sky was scattered over
all the surface in crumbs of smiling blue.

A creek ran up to meet the path, and close under the bank the fe