to Dick had he not been
in a constant state of fret and anxiety about his friends.

For, living as he did in that island of good elevated land in the great
wild fen where inhabitants were scarce, everybody was looked upon as an
intimate friend, and half the lad's time was spent at the bottom of the
slope beyond the ruinous walls of the old Priory, watching the water to
see how much higher it had risen, and to gaze out afar and watch for the
coming of boat or punt.

In truth, though, there was only one vessel likely to come, and that was
the flat-bottomed punt belonging to Dave, who worked the duck-decoy far
out in the fen. The people on the sea-bank had a boat; but they were
five miles away at least, and would not venture on such a night.

"What should I do?" thought Dick as he walked down to the edge of the
water again and again. "If Tom is drowned, and Dave, and John Warren,
they may drain the fen as soon as they like, for the place will not be
the same."

The night wore on; and Mrs Winthorpe made the people in turn partake of
a meal, half supper, half breakfast, and, beyond obeying his father's
orders regarding dry clothes, Dick could go no further. He revolted
against food, and, feeling heartsick and enraged against the wheelwright
for eating a tremendous meal, he once more ran down to the water's edge,
to find his father watching a stick or two he had thrust in.

"Tide has turned, Dick," he said quietly; "the water will not rise any
higher."

"And will it all run off now, father?"

The squire shook his head.

"Some will," he replied; "but the fen will be a regular lake till the
sea-bank has been mended. It must have been rough and the tide very
high to beat that down."

"Will it come in again, then?" asked Dick.

"Perhaps: perhaps not. It's a lucky thing that I had no stock down at
the corner field by the fish-stews. If they had not been up here in the
home close, every head must have been drowned."

"Do you think the fish-ponds are covered, father?"

"Five or six feet deep, my boy."

"Then the fish will get out."

"Very likely Dick; but we've something more important to think about
than fish. Hark! what's that?" and he listened.

"Ahoy!" roared Hickathrift from just behind them. "Hear that, squire?"

"Yes, my lad, I heard a cry from off the water."

Just then came another faint hail from a distance.

"That's Dave," said Hickathrift, smiling all over his broad face; "any
one could tel