"Oh, my God! he's fallen into the creek!" cried Mrs. March, as she tried to run towards the spot. Long Billy dashed past her, with his great strides, and said, as he passed:—
"Don't be skeered, mum; in the mud, most likely."
The cries came feebler and feebler, and stopped altogether,—then a loud burst of laughter from Billy, which brought the life back to Mrs. March. She was clinging to the fence, nearly senseless with terror; Nelly stood close by, her face white, and tears rolling down her cheeks: when they heard Billy's laugh, they looked at each other in amazement and relief.
"He can't be in the creek, mamma," said Nelly: "Billy wouldn't laugh."
Then they heard Mr. March laugh, and say:—
"Hold on, Rob: don't be frightened; we'll get a rail."
Then Billy came striding back out of the bushes, still laughing. When he saw Mrs. March's and Nelly's agonized faces, his own sobered instantly.
"'Twas too bad, mum," he exclaimed, "to give ye such a skeer. He's in the slough, thet's all; he's putty well in, too; he'll be a sight to see when we get him fished out. He's in putty well nigh up to his arms."
Mrs. March could not help laughing; but Nelly only cried the more.
"Poor dear Rob!" she said: "how he will feel!" And she began to climb the fence.