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 White-face. 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 remainder 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 ferryman's
hut lay snugly. It was of wattle and clay, and the grass grew green upon
the roof.

Dick went to the door and opened it. Within, upon a foul old russet
cloak, the ferryman lay stretched and shivering; a great hulk of a man,
but lean and shaken by the country fever.

"Hey, Master Shelton," he said, "be ye for the ferry? Ill times, ill
times! Look to yourself. There is a fellowship abroad. Ye were better
turn round on your two heels and try the bridge."

"Nay; time's in the saddle," answered Dick. "Time will ride, Hugh
Ferryman. I am hot in haste."

"A wilful man!" returned the ferryman, rising. "An ye win safe to the
Moat House, y' have done lucky; but I say no more." And then catching
sight of Matcham, "Who be this?" he asked, as he paused, blinking, on
the threshold of his cabin.

"It is my kinsman, Master Matcham," answered Dick.

"Give ye good day, good ferryman," said Matcham, who had dismounted,
and now came forward, leading the horse. "Launch me your boat, I
prithee; we are sore in haste."

The gaunt ferryman continued stari