“Have a run! have a swim, you mean,” said Tom. “Why, that was in one of the wettest places between here and your house. I say, how plainly you can hear the sea!”
“Of course you can, when the wind blows off it,” said Dick, as he listened for a moment to the dull low rushing sound. “Your mother has put two candles in the window.”
“She always does when father’s out. She’s afraid he might get lost in the bog.”
“So did my mother once; but it made father cross, and he said, next time he went out she was to tie a bit of thread to his arm, and hold the end, and then he would be sure to get home all right. Why, there’s a jack-o’-lantern on the road.”
“That isn’t a jacky-lantern,” replied Tom, looking steadfastly first at the two lights shining out in the distance, and then at a dim kind of star which seemed to be jerking up and down.
“Tell you it is,” said Dick shortly.
“Tell you it isn’t,” cried Tom. “Jacky-lanterns are never lame. They never hop up and down like that, but seem to glide here and there like a honey-bee. It’s our Joe come to meet us with the horn lantern. It’s his game leg makes it go up and down.”
“Dick!” came from ahead.
“Yes, father,” shouted the lad; and they ran on to where the squire and Farmer Tallington were awaiting them.
“We’ll say ‘good-night’ now,” said the squire. “Here, Dick, Farmer’s Joe is coming on with the lantern. Shall we let him light us home?”