Dick Lionheart | Page 8

finished a saucerful of sop and then looked up knowingly at his master, as if to say, "These are famous quarters--don't tramp any further to-night."
"Poor boy," said Mrs. Grey, as she wiped her spectacles, "it's a long way for you to go, and coming on dead of winter too. I don't see how you're going to manage it. But you shall have a shakedown on the old sofa here, for to-night. I am sure I can trust you, or rather trust Him who said 'Inasmuch.'"
"I knew He would help me," said Dick gratefully, "but I didn't expect anything so good as this."
"But He always gives more than our expectings or deservings," said the old woman kindly, as she put another log on the fire. "See what a splendid load of wood He's sent me for the winter, and then He sent you along, just in time to stow it away. As I get older my prayers always seem turned to praise before I've done, there's so much to be glad for."
Dick slept soundly on the old sofa, with Pat curled up at his feet, but he woke next morning in time to light the fire and put the kettle on, before Mrs. Grey came down. And, looking at his bright face and seeing his handy ways, she felt almost inclined to keep Pat and his master.
But after breakfast they started at once, Dick's jacket pockets stuffed full of provisions and the threepenny bit jingling merrily against Paddy's half-crown. But there was no chance of earning more that day, and they had to sleep in the loose hay at the foot of a hay rick, belonging to a distant farm.
Fortunately the wind had changed and the weather was warmer, and they were none the worse for the camping out.
Dick was trudging manfully on a day or two afterwards, hoping to reach the town of Weyn before nightfall, when a lumbering carrier's waggon with a black canvas roof came jolting along, at a great rate, behind. "Steady, there! Whoa, I say. What ails thee now? Steady!"
The big brown horse was pulling and straining at the bit and looking very wild, while the driver tugged at the reins in a frantic attempt to pull up, and two women passengers inside the van began to scream.
Without a thought of danger Lionheart sprang from the side of the road and dashed towards the horse's head, clutching at the reins, and a farm labourer, coming in the opposite direction, threw up his arms in front.
[Illustration: "WITHOUT A THOUGHT OF DANGER, LIONHEART DASHED TOWARDS THE HORSE'S HEAD."]
Startled by this double onslaught the horse swerved and then stood still, trembling with fright.
"It's the strap!" cried Dick, breathlessly. "See, that strap has broken and the end was flicking his side, and that frightened him."
"Sure enough, and I couldn't think what ailed him," cried the driver, wiping the perspiration from his brow. "Seven years I've had Boxer, and he never played me that trick afore. I'm very much obliged to ye, my brave lad, and you too, friend, and I'll stand a shilling apiece and thankful. The canal bridge is just a half mile further on, and if he hadn't been stopped and the bridge had chanced to be open----"
The labourer took the shilling with a grin, and held the horse while the carrier mended the broken strap with string, but Dick said hesitatingly, "I don't want a whole shilling just for trying to hold him, it's too much. But would you mind giving me a lift instead. We're going to Weyn, and we've walked such a long way."
"With all the pleasure in life," said carrier Brown, good-naturedly. "You want to get to fair, I suppose? Ah well, a fair's no good without money to spend. So take this and jump up. Boxer will be all right when he's had a bite from his nose-bag."
The inside of the van was like a cave, and the narrow seat that ran round the inside was packed with country folks and their baskets and parcels, going to the fair. Clean straw carpeted the floor, and a tiny glass window at the back, six inches square, let in a few murky rays of daylight. Two schoolboys shared the front seat with the driver, but he made a few inches of room for Dick, and Pat snuggled down contentedly at his feet.
The women inside talked loudly of their feelings when Boxer bolted, but the driver still looked pale and anxious, and Dick, feeling shaken now the strain was over, was very glad to lean back against the side and rest. Mile after mile they rumbled on, leaving the canal with its barges behind, and the low lying meadows with their fringes of elm and willow.
Sometimes the way lay through narrow lanes, where the branches almost