“Fight! no, Dave; the fire!”
“Eh?” said the man, staring.
“The fire! Don’t you know that Grimsey was nearly all burned down last night?”
Dave loosened his hold of his pole, which fell into the water with a splash.
“Grimsey! bont down!” he exclaimed, and his lower jaw dropped and showed his yellow teeth, but only to recover himself directly and pick up the pole. “Yah!” he snarled; “what’s the good o’ saying such a word as that? He’s a hidin’ behind them reeds. Now, then, lad, days is short! Coom out! I can see you!”
He looked in the direction of a patch of reeds and alders as he spoke, and helped himself to a pill of opium from his box.
“Tom Tallington isn’t there, Dave!” cried Dick. “I tell you there was a bad fire at Grimsey last night!”
“Nay, lad, you don’t mean it!” cried Dave, impressed now by the boy’s earnestness.
“There was! Look! you can see the smoke rising now.”
Dave looked as the lad pointed, and then said softly: