ee. Shalt not lie there to
drown by inches!"

And he made ready his crossbow, and put a quarrel through the creature's
head.

Dick rode on after this act of rugged mercy, somewhat sobered in spirit,
and looking closely about him for any sign of his less happy predecessor
in the way. "I would I had dared to tell him further," he thought; "for
I fear he has miscarried in the slough."

And just as he was so thinking, a voice cried upon his name from the
causeway side, and, looking over his shoulder, he saw the lad's face
peering from a clump of reeds.

"Are ye there?" he said, reining in. "Ye lay so close among the reeds
that I had passed you by. I saw your horse bemired, and put him from his
agony; which, by my sooth! an ye had been a more merciful rider, ye had
done yourself. But come forth out of your hiding. Here be none to
trouble you."

"Nay, good boy, I have no arms, nor skill to use them if I had," replied
the other, stepping forth upon the pathway.

"Why call me 'boy'?" cried Dick. "Y' are not, I trow, the elder of us
twain."

"Good Master Shelton," said the other, "prithee forgive me. I have none
the least intention to offend. Rather I would in every way beseech your
gentleness and favour, for I am now worse bested than ever, having lost
my way, my cloak, and my poor horse. To have a riding-rod and spurs, and
never a horse to sit upon! And before all," he added, looking ruefully
upon his clothes--"before all, to be so sorrily besmirched!"

"Tut!" cried Dick. "Would ye mind a ducking? Blood of wound or dust of
travel--that's a man's adornment."

"Nay, then, I like him better plain," observed the lad. "But, prithee,
how shall I do? Prithee, good Master Richard, help me with your good
counsel. If I come not safe to Holywood, I am undone."

"Nay," said Dick, dismounting, "I will give more than counsel. Take my
horse, and I will run awhile, and when I am weary we shall change again,
that so, riding and running, both may go the speedier."

So the change was made, and they went forward as briskly as they durst on
the uneven causeway, Dick with his hand upon the other's knee.

"How call ye your name?" asked Dick.

"Call me John Matcham," replied the lad.

"And what make ye to Holywood?" Dick continued.

"I seek sanctuary from a man that would oppress me," was the answer.
"The good Abbot of Holywood is a strong pillar to the weak."

"And how came ye with Sir Daniel, Master Matcham?" pu