rts to free himself caused him
only to sink deeper and deeper.

"O, Blessed Mary, save me; save me!" he yelled out in an agony
of anguish as he felt himself slowly but surely sinking; but not,
apparently, feeling very much assured about the answer to his prayer,
he turned from things spiritual to things visible and mortal.

"Help me; save me, George," he cried.

Sir George Vernon was too much overcome by the ludicrous aspect of
the affair to lend any assistance just then, for he well knew that two
feet, if not less than that, was the excess of its depth.

"Let him alone," he cried. "If he had not so befuddled his head with
ale he would remember as well as I do that twenty inches would reach
the bottom of the mud."

Had Lady Maude been there she would in all probability have sent
her lord and master to aid the poor unfortunate, but she was safe
at Haddon, and, rejoicing in his freedom from restraint, he laughed
louder and louder as he watched the frantic efforts of his friend.

"Don't let me die," pleaded poor De Lacey. "Don't let me die like a
dog. Oh, dear, I'm going, I'm going! Blessed Virgin, help me; save
me!" and the old man made a last great struggle to free himself.

Manners could bear it no longer. He clearly perceived that what
was fun to them was mortal terror to the pitiable object of their
merriment, and, advancing to the edge of the dyke, he held out his
pole at arm's length to render him what assistance he could.

"Here, take hold of it," he cried.

Sir John endeavoured to obey the injunction, but he could not even
touch it, and he sank back again in despair.

"Why, man," laughed Sir George, "as I'm a Vernon, you know as well as
I do that thou canst never sink deep in two feet of mud."

The words roused De Lacey to struggle to his feet and attempt to
extricate himself. He staggered forward and advanced a foot or
two, but the slimy mud had such a determined hold of him that he
overbalanced himself, and fell forward at full length into the ditch.
This time, however, he was closer to the bank, and making another
effort, he grasped the pole which was still held out to help him.
Manners leaned forward, and pulled with all his might, but for some
time it was an open question whether he would go in or Sir John come
out.

At this critical juncture Dorothy arrived upon the scene of the
disaster. The sight of the old man's distress at once appealed to her
womanly nature, and she had but to murmur a wo