“Can’t see him,” he said with a sigh; and then, as no notice was taken of his remark, he went slowly out and across the square stone-paved hall to the kitchen, where, just as he expected, a great potato was waiting for him by the peat-fire, and hot plate, butter, pepper, and salt were ready.
“Oh, I say, Sarah, you are a good one!” cried Dick.
“I thought you’d come, Mester Dick,” said the maid; and then, with a start, “Gracious! what’s that?”
“Sea-bird,” said Dick shortly, and then he dropped the knife and ran back to the parlour, for another cry came from off the fen.
“Hear that, father!” cried Dick.
“Hear it! yes, my lad. Quick! get your cap. My staff, mother,” he added. “Poor fellow’s got in, p’r’aps.”
The squire hurried out after Dick, who had taken the lead, and as they passed out of the great stone porch the lad uttered a hail, which was answered evidently from about a couple of hundred yards away.
“He has been coming across the fen path,” said the squire. “Ahoy! don’t stir till we come.”
“Shall we want the lantern, father?” cried Dick.
“No, no, my lad; we can see. Seems darker first coming out of the light.”