Dick o' the Fens Part 29

_Plash_! _plash_! _plash_! _plash_!

He turned sharply, to see, about a hundred yards away, the figure of gaunt, grim-looking Dave standing up in his punt, and poling himself along by the dry rustling reeds, a grey-drab looking object in a grey-drab landscape.

Then, like a flash, came to the lad's memory the engagement made to go liggering that day, and he wondered why it was that he did not feel more eager to have a day's fis.h.i.+ng for the pike.

_Pee-wit_! _pee-wit_! came from off the water in a low plaintive whistle, which d.i.c.k answered, and in a minute or two the decoy-man poled his boat ash.o.r.e, smiling in his tight, dry way.

"Now, then, young mester," he said, "I've got a straange nice lot o'

bait and plenty o' hooks and band, and it's about as good a day for fis.h.i.+ng as yow could have. Wheer's young Tom o' Grimsey?"

"At home, of course!" said d.i.c.k in a snappish way, which he wondered at himself.

"At home, o' course?" said Dave quietly as he stood up in the boat resting upon the pole. "Why, he were to be here, ready."

"How could he be ready after last night?" said d.i.c.k sharply.

Dave took off his fox-skin cap after letting his pole fall into the hollow of his arm, and scratched his head before uttering a low cachinnatory laugh that was not pleasant to the ear.

"Yow seem straange and popped [put out of temper] this morning, young mester. Young Tom o' Grimsey and you been hewing a bit of a fight?"

"Fight! no, Dave; the fire!"

"Eh?" said the man, staring.

"The fire! Don't you know that Grimsey was nearly all burned down last night?"

Dave loosened his hold of his pole, which fell into the water with a splash.

"Grimsey! bont down!" he exclaimed, and his lower jaw dropped and showed his yellow teeth, but only to recover himself directly and pick up the pole. "Yah!" he snarled; "what's the good o' saying such a word as that? He's a hidin' behind them reeds. Now, then, lad, days is short!

Coom out! I can see you!"

He looked in the direction of a patch of reeds and alders as he spoke, and helped himself to a pill of opium from his box.

"Tom Tallington isn't there, Dave!" cried d.i.c.k. "I tell you there was a bad fire at Grimsey last night!"

"Nay, lad, you don't mean it!" cried Dave, impressed now by the boy's earnestness.

"There was! Look! you can see the smoke rising now."

Dave looked as the lad pointed, and then said softly:

"Hey! bud theer is the roke [smoke or vapour] sewer enough!"

"Didn't you see it last night?"

"Nay, lad; I fished till I couldn't see, for the baits, and then went home and fitted the hooks on to the bands and see to the blethers, and then I happed mysen oop and went to sleep."

"And heard and saw nothing of the fire?"

"Nay, I see nowt, lad. Two mile to my plaace from here and two mile from here to Grimsey, mak's four mile. Nay, I heered nowt!"

"Of course you wouldn't, Dave! The light shone in at my window and woke me up, and we were all there working with buckets to put it out!"

"Wucking wi' boockets!" said Dave slowly as he stared in the direction of Tallington's farm. "Hey, but I wish I'd been theer!"

"I wish you had, Dave!"

"Did she blaaze much, mun?"

"Blaze! why, everything was lit up, and the smoke and sparks flew in clouds!"

"Did it, though?" said Dave thoughtfully. "Now, look here, lad," he continued, taking out his tobacco-box; "some on 'em says a man shouldn't tak' his bit o' opium, and that he should smoke 'bacco. I say it's wrong. If I smoked 'bacco some night I should set my plaace afire, 'stead o' just rolling up a bit o' stoof and clapping it in my mooth."

"I don't know what you mean, Dave," cried d.i.c.k.

"Then I'll tell'ee, lad. Some un got smoking his pipe in one of they stables, and set it afire."

"No, no; some one must have set fire to the stacks."

"Nay!" cried Dave, staring in the lad's face with his jaw dropped.

"Yes; that was it, and father thinks it was."

"Not one o' the men, lad; nay, not one o' the men!" cried Dave.

"No, but some one who doesn't like the drain made, and that it was done out of spite."

Dave whisked up his pole and struck with it at the water, sending it flying in all directions, and then made a stab with it as if to strike some one in the chest and drive him under water.

"Nay, nay, nay," he cried, "no one would do owt o' the soort, lad. Nay, nay, nay."

"Ah, well, I don't know!" cried d.i.c.k. "All I know is that the stacks were burnt."

"Weer they, lad?"

"Yes, and the stables."

Dave made a clucking noise with his tongue.

"And the house had a narrow escape."

"Hey, bud it's straange; and will Tallington hev to flit [move, change residence] then?"

"No; the house is right all but one room."

"Eh, bud I'm straange and glad o' that, lad. Well, we can't goo liggering to-day, lad. It wouldn't be neighbourly."

"No, I shouldn't care to go to-day, Dave, and without Tom. What are you going to do?"