“Don’t say that, father; let me go.”
“No no, Dick,” cried Mrs Winthorpe, entering the kitchen, for she had been upon the alert. “You have run risks enough to-night.”
“Yes; stay and take care of the women, Dick,” said his father.
Dick gave an angry stamp on the floor.
“Mother wants me to grow up a coward,” he cried. “Oh, mother, it’s too bad!”
“But, Dick, my boy,” faltered the poor woman.
“Let the boy come, wife,” said the squire quietly; “I’ll take care of him.”
“Yes, and I’ll take care of father,” cried Dick, rushing at his mother to give her a sounding kiss, and with a sigh she gave way, and followed the party down to the water’s edge.