The Black Arrow: A Tale of the Two Roses Read online

  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 ofwillow-covered, marshy islets.

  It was a dingy stream; but upon this bright, spirited morning everythingwas become beautiful. The wind and the martens broke it up intoinnumerable dimples; and the reflection of the sky was scattered overall the surface in crumbs of smiling blue.

  A creek ran up to meet the path, and close under the bank the ferryman'shut lay snugly. It was of wattle and clay, and the grass grew green uponthe roof.

  Dick went to the door and opened it. Within, upon a foul old russetcloak, 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, illtimes! Look to yourself. There is a fellowship abroad. Ye were betterturn round on your two heels and try the bridge."

  "Nay; time's in the saddle," answered Dick. "Time will ride, HughFerryman. I am hot in haste."

  "A wilful man!" returned the ferryman, rising. "An ye win safe to theMoat House, y' have done lucky; but I say no more." And then catchingsight of Matcham, "Who be this?" he asked, as he paused, blinking, onthe threshold of his cabin.

  "It is my kinsman, Master Matcham," answered Dick.

  "Give ye good day, good ferryman," said Matcham, who had dismounted, andnow came forward, leading the horse. "Launch me your boat, I prithee; weare 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 angrycountenance, put his hand on the lout's shoulder.

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

  Hugh Ferryman grumblingly undid his boat, and shoved it a little forthinto the deep water. Then Dick led in the horse, and Matcham followed.

  "Ye be mortal small made, master," said Hugh, with a wide grin;"something o' the wrong model, belike. Nay, Master Shelton, I am foryou," he added, getting to his oars. "A cat may look at a king. I didbut take a shot of the eye at Master Matcham."

  "Sirrah, no more words," said Dick. "Bend me your back."

  They were by that time at the mouth of the creek, and the view opened upand down the river. Everywhere it was enclosed with islands. Clay bankswere falling in, willows nodding, reeds waving, martens dipping andpiping. There was no sign of man in the labyrinth of waters.

  "My master," said the ferryman, keeping the boat steady with one oar, "Ihave a shrew guess that John-a-Fenne is on the island. He bears me ablack grudge to all Sir Daniel's. How if I turned me up stream andlanded you an arrow-flight above the path? Ye were best not meddle withJohn Fenne."

  "How, then, is he of this company?" asked Dick.

  "Nay, mum is the word," said Hugh. "But I would go up water, Dick. Howif Master Matcham came by an arrow?" and he laughed again.

  "Be it so, Hugh," answered Dick.

  "Look ye, then," pursued Hugh. "Sith it shall so be, unsling me yourcross-bow--so: now make it ready--good; place me a quarrel. Ay, keep itso, and look upon me grimly."

  "What meaneth this?" asked Dick.

  "Why, my master, if I steal you across, it must be under force or fear,"replied the ferryman; "for else, if John Fenne got wind of it, he werelike to prove my most distressful neighbour."

  "Do these churls ride so roughly?" Dick inquired. "Do they command SirDaniel's own ferry?"

  "Nay," whispered the ferryman, winking. "Mark me! Sir Daniel shall down.His time is out. He shall down. Mum!" And he bent over his oars.

  They pulled a long way up the river, turned the tail of an island, andcame softly down a narrow channel next the opposite bank. Then Hugh heldwater in mid-stream.

  "I must land you here among the willows," he said.

  "Here is no path but willow swamps and quagmires," answered Dick.

  "Master Shelton," replied Hugh, "I dare not take ye nearer down, foryour own sake now. He watcheth me the ferry, lying on his bow. All thatgo by and owe Sir Daniel good-will, he shooteth down like rabbits. Iheard him swear it by the rood. An I had not known you of old days--ay,and from so high upward--I would 'a' let you go on; but for old days'remembrance, and because ye had this toy with you that's not fit forwounds or warfare, I did risk my two poor ears to have you over whole.Content you; I can no more, on my salvation!"

  Hugh was still speaking, lying on his oars, when there came a greatshout from among the willows on the island, and sounds followed as of astrong man breasting roughly through the wood.

  "A murrain!" cried Hugh. "He was on the upper island all the while!" Hepulled straight for shore. "Threat me with your bow, good Dick; threatme with it plain," he added. "I have tried to save your skins, save youmine!"

  The boat ran into a tough thicket of willows with a crash. Matcham,pale, but steady and alert, at a sign from Dick, ran along the thwartsand leaped ashore; Dick, taking the horse by the bridle, sought tofollow, but what with the animal's bulk, and what with the closeness ofthe thicket, both stuck fast. The horse neighed and trampled; and theboat, which was swinging in an eddy, came on and off and pitched withviolence.

  "It may not be, Hugh; here is no landing," cried Dick; but he stillstruggled valiantly with the obstinate thicket and the startled animal.

  A tall man appeared upon the shore of the island, a long-bow in hishand. Dick saw him for an instant, with the corner of his eye, bendingthe bow with a great effort, his face crimson with hurry.

  "Who goes?" he shouted. "Hugh, who goes?"

  "'Tis Master Shelton, John," replied the ferryman.

  "Stand, Dick Shelton!" bawled the man upon the island. "Ye shall have nohurt, upon the rood! Stand! Back out, Hugh Ferryman."

  Dick cried a taunting answer.

  "Nay, then, ye shall go afoot," returned the man; and he let drive anarrow.

  The horse, struck by the shaft, lashed out in agony and terror; the boatcapsized, and the next moment all were struggling in the eddies of theriver.

  When Dick came up, he was within a yard of the bank; and before his eyeswere clear, his hand had closed on something firm and strong thatinstantly began to drag him forward. It was the riding-rod, thatMatcham, crawling forth upon an overhanging willow, had opportunelythrust into his grasp.

  "By the mass!" cried Dick, as he was helped ashore, "that makes a life Iowe you. I swim like a cannon-ball." And he turned instantly towards theisland.

  Midway over, Hugh Ferryman was swimming with his upturned boat, whileJohn-a-Fenne, furious at the ill-fortune of his shot, bawled to him tohurry.

  "Come, Jack," said Shelton, "run for it! Ere Hugh can hale his bargeacross, or the pair of 'em can get it righted, we may be out of cry."

  And adding example to his words, he began to run, dodging among thewillows, and in marshy places leaping from tussock to tussock. He had notime to look for his direction; all he could do was to turn his backupon the river, and put all his heart to running.

  Presently, however, the ground began to rise, which showed him he wasstill in the right way, and soon after they came forth upon a slope ofsolid turf, where elms began to mingle with the willows.

  But here Matcham, who had been dragging far into the rear, threw himselffairly down.

  "Leave me, Dick!" he cried, pantingly; "I can no more."

  Dick turned, and came back to where his companion lay.

  "Nay, Jack, leave thee!" he cried. "That were a knave's trick, to besure, when ye risked a shot and a ducking, ay, and a drowning too, tosave my life. Drowning, in sooth; for why I did not pull you in alongwith me, the saints alone can tell!"

  "Nay," said Matcham, "I would 'a' saved us both, good Dick, for I canswim."

  "Can ye so?" cried Dick, with open eyes. It was the one manlyaccomplishment of which he was himself incapable. In the order of thethings that he admired, next to having killed a m
an in single fight cameswimming. "Well," he said, "here is a lesson to despise no man. Ipromised to care for you as far as Holywood, and, by the rood, Jack,y'are more capable to care for me."

  "Well, Dick, we're friends now," said Matcham.

  "Nay, I never was unfriends," answered Dick. "Y'are a brave lad in yourway, albeit something of a milksop, too. I never met your like beforethis day. But, prithee, fetch back your breath, and let us on. Here isno place for chatter."

  "My foot hurts shrewdly," said Matcham.

  "Nay, I had forgot your foot," returned Dick. "Well, we must go thegentlier. I would I knew rightly where we were. I have clean lost thepath; yet that may be for the better, too. An they watch the ferry, theywatch the path, belike, as well. I would Sir Daniel were back withtwo-score men; he would sweep me these rascals as the wind sweepsleaves. Come, Jack, lean ye on my shoulder, ye poor shrew. Nay, y'arenot tall enough. What age are ye, for a wager?--twelve?"

  "Nay, I am sixteen," said Matcham.

  "Y'are poorly grown to height, then," answered Dick. "But take my hand.We shall go softly, never fear. I owe you a life; I am a good repayer,Jack, of good or evil."

  They began to go forward up the slope.

  "We must hit the road, early or late," continued Dick; "and then for afresh start. By the mass! but y' 'ave a rickety hand, Jack. If I had ahand like that, I would think shame. I tell you," he went on, with asudden chuckle, "I swear by the mass I believe Hugh Ferryman took youfor a maid."

  "Nay, never!" cried the other, colouring high.

  "A' did, though, for a wager!" Dick exclaimed. "Small blame to him. Yelook liker maid than man; and I tell you more--y'are a strange-lookingrogue for a boy; but for a hussy, Jack, ye would be right fair--yewould. Ye would be well favoured for a wench."

  "Well," said Matcham, "ye know right well that I am none."

  "Nay, I know that; I do but jest," said Dick. "Ye'll be a man beforeyour mother, Jack. What cheer, my bully! Ye shall strike shrewd strokes.Now, which, I marvel, of you or me, shall be first knighted, Jack? forknighted I shall be, or die for't. 'Sir Richard Shelton, Knight': itsoundeth bravely. But 'Sir John Matcham' soundeth not amiss."

  "Prithee, Dick, stop till I drink," said the other, pausing where alittle clear spring welled out of the slope into a gravelled basin nobigger than a pocket. "And O, Dick, if I might come by anything toeat!--my very heart aches with hunger."

  "Why, fool, did ye not eat at Kettley?" asked Dick.

  "I had made a vow--it was a sin I had been led into," stammered Matcham;"but now, if it were but dry bread, I would eat it greedily."

  "Sit ye, then, and eat," said Dick, "while that I scout a little forwardfor the road." And he took a wallet from his girdle, wherein were breadand pieces of dry bacon, and, while Matcham fell heartily to, struckfarther forth among the trees.

  A little beyond there was a dip in the ground, where a streamlet soakedamong dead leaves; and beyond that, again, the trees were better grownand stood wider, and oak and beech began to take the place of willow andelm. The continued tossing and pouring of the wind among the leavessufficiently concealed the sounds of his footsteps on the mast; it wasfor the ear what a moonless night is to the eye; but for all that Dickwent cautiously, slipping from one big trunk to another, and lookingsharply about him as he went. Suddenly a doe passed like a shadowthrough the underwood in front of him, and he paused, disgusted at thechance. This part of the wood had been certainly deserted, but now thatthe poor deer had run, she was like a messenger he should have sentbefore him to announce his coming; and instead of pushing farther, heturned him to the nearest well-grown tree, and rapidly began to climb.

  Luck had served him well. The oak on which he had mounted was one of thetallest in that quarter of the wood, and easily out-topped itsneighbours by a fathom and a half; and when Dick had clambered into thetopmost fork and clung there, swinging dizzily in the great wind, he sawbehind him the whole fenny plain as far as Kettley, and the Tillwandering among woody islets, and in front of him, the white line ofhighroad winding through the forest. The boat had been righted--it waseven now midway on the ferry. Beyond that there was no sign of man, noraught moving but the wind. He was about to descend, when, taking a lastview, his eye lit upon a string of moving points about the middle of thefen. Plainly a small troop was threading the causeway, and that at agood pace; and this gave him some concern as he shinned vigorously downthe trunk and returned across the wood for his companion.