Shelton, "run for it! Ere Hugh can hale his barge
across, or the pair of 'em can get it righted, we may be out of cry."

And adding example to his words, he began to run, dodging among the
willows, and in marshy places leaping from tussock to tussock. He had no
time to look for his direction; all he could do was to turn his back upon
the river, and put all his heart to running.

Presently, however, the ground began to rise, which showed him he was
still in the right way, and soon after they came forth upon a slope of
solid turf, where elms began to mingle with the willows.

But here Matcham, who had been dragging far into the rear, threw himself
fairly down.

"Leave me, Dick!" he cried, pantingly; "I can no more."

Dick turned, and came back to where his companion lay.

"Nay, Jack, leave thee!" he cried. "That were a knave's trick, to be
sure, when ye risked a shot and a ducking, ay, and a drowning too, to
save my life. Drowning, in sooth; for why I did not pull you in along
with me, the saints alone can tell!"

"Nay," said Matcham, "I would 'a' saved us both, good Dick, for I can
swim."

"Can ye so?" cried Dick, with open eyes. It was the one manly
accomplishment of which he was himself incapable. In the order of the
things that he admired, next to having killed a man in single fight came
swimming. "Well," he said, "here is a lesson to despise no man. I
promised to care for you as far as Holywood, and, by the rood, Jack, y'
are more capable to care for me."

"Well, Dick, we're friends now," said Matcham.

"Nay, I never was unfriends," answered Dick. "Y' are a brave lad in your
way, albeit something of a milksop, too. I never met your like before
this day. But, prithee, fetch back your breath, and let us on. Here is
no place for chatter."

"My foot hurts shrewdly," said Matcham.

"Nay, I had forgot your foot," returned Dick. "Well, we must go the
gentlier. I would I knew rightly where we were. I have clean lost the
path; yet that may be for the better, too. An they watch the ferry, they
watch the path, belike, as well. I would Sir Daniel were back with two
score men; he would sweep me these rascals as the wind sweeps leaves.
Come, Jack, lean ye on my shoulder, ye poor shrew. Nay, y' are not tall
enough. What age are ye, for a wager?--twelve?"

"Nay, I am sixteen," said Matcham.

"Y' are poorly grown to height, then," answered Dick. "But take my hand.
We shall go softly, never fear.