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 staring.

"By the mass!" he cried at length, and laughed with open throat.

Matcham coloured to his neck and winced; and Dick, with an angry
countenance, put his hand on the lout's shoulder.

"How now, churl!" he cried. "Fall to thy business, and leave mocking thy
betters."

Hugh Ferryman grumblingly undid his boat, and shoved it a little forth
into the deep water. Then Dick led in the horse, an