Dick Cheveley | Page 8

as I looked up, I saw
the tops of the trees, and presently afterwards I found the swan was
trying to make her way up the bank, while my feet touched the muddy
bottom.
I had no wish to be dragged through the bushes by the swan, so, as I
was close to the shore, I let go, but as I did so, I fell utterly exhausted
on the bank, and was very nearly slipping again into the water. The
swan, finding herself free after going a short distance, closed her wings,

and recollecting, I fancy, that I had been the cause of her alarm, came
rushing back with out-stretched neck, uttering a strange hissing sound,
preparing, as I supposed, to attack me. I was too much exhausted to try
and get up and endeavour to escape from her. Just as she was within a
few feet of me, I saw a boy armed with a thick stick spring out from
among the bushes, and run directly towards her. A blow from his stick
turned her aside, and instead of making for me, she again plunged into
the water, and made her way over the surface in the direction from
which we had come.
"I am very much obliged to you, my fine fellow, for driving off the
swan, or I suppose the savage creature would have mauled me terribly,
had she got up to me."
"Very happy to have done you a service, master; but it didn't give me
much trouble to do it. However, I would advise you not to stop here in
your wet clothes, for the mornings are pretty fresh, and you'll be
catching a bad cold."
"Thank you," I said, "but I do not feel very well able to walk far just
yet."
"Have you got far to go home?" he asked.
I told him.
"Well, then, you had better come home with me to my father's cottage.
It is away down near the sea, and he'll give you some hot spirits, and
you can turn into my bed while your clothes are drying."
I was very glad to accept his proposal, for I did not at all fancy having
to go home all dripping, to be laughed at by my brothers, and to get a
scolding from Aunt Deb into the bargain, for I knew she would say it
was all my own fault, and that if I had not been prying into the swan's
nest, the bird would not have attacked me. I did not, however, wish to
lose my rod and basket of fish, and I thought it very probable that if I
left them, somebody else would carry them off. I asked my new friend
his name.

"Mark Riddle," he answered.
"Before I go I must get back my rod and basket of fish; it won't take us
long. Would you mind coming with me?"
"No, master, I don't mind; but I would advise you to be quick about it."
Mark helped me up, and as I soon got the use of my legs, we ran round
outside the trees as fast as we could go. The basket of fish was safe
enough on the bank, but the rod was floating away at some distance.
"Oh dear, oh dear. I shall never be able to get it," I exclaimed.
"What! Can't you swim, master?" asked Mark.
I confessed that I was afraid I could not swim far enough to bring it in.
"Well, never you mind. I'll have it in a jiffy," and stripping off his
clothes he plunged into the water and soon brought in the rod.
"There's a fish on the hook I've a notion," he said, as he handed me the
butt end of the rod.
He was right, and as he was dressing, not taking long to rub himself dry
with his handkerchief, I landed a fine fat tench.
"That belongs to you," I said. "And, indeed, I ought to give you all the
fish I have in my basket."
"Much obliged, master; but I've got a fine lot myself, which I pulled out
of the pond this morning, only don't you say a word about it, for the
Squire, I've a notion, doesn't allow us poor people to come fishing
here."
I assured Mark that I would not inform against him, and having taken
my rod to pieces and wound up my line, I said that I was ready to set
out. Mark by that time was completely dressed. Just as we were about
to start I saw the swan--I suppose the same one which had dragged me
across the pond--come swimming back at a rapid rate towards where

we were standing, in the neighbourhood, as I well knew, of her nest.
Whether or not she fancied we were