Dick gazed at him searchingly, but the farmer did not meet his eyes.
“I’ve been straänge and fidgety ever since my fire,” continued the farmer; “and it’s med me get out o’ bed o’ nights and look round for fear of another. I was out o’ bed towards morning last night, and as I looked I could see yonder on the mere what seemed to be a lanthorn.”
“You saw that?” said Dick involuntarily.
“Ay, lad, I saw that,” said the farmer, rubbing his hands together softly; “and first of all I thowt it was a will-o’-the-wisp, but it didn’t go about like one o’ they, and as it went out directly and came again, I thought it was some one wi’ a light.”
“What, out on the watter?” said Hickathrift.
“Yes, my lad; out on the watter,” said the farmer; “and that med me say to mysen: What’s any one doing wi’ a light out on the watter at this time? and I could on’y think as they wanted it to set fire to some one’s plaäce, and I couldn’t stop abed and think that. So I got up, and went down to the shore, got into my owd punt, and loosed her, and went out torst wheer I’d seen the light.”
“And did you see it, mester?” said Hickathrift.
“Nay, my lad. I went on and on as quietly as I could go, and round the reed-bed, but all was as quiet as could be.”
“Didn’t you see the poont?” said the wheelwright.
“What punt?” said Tom sharply.