Again he went on even more eagerly than before.
Fanny, who had just then reached a rise in the ground, caught sight of Norman, some way off in the hollow below her, floundering about and holding on to the cart, towards which Alec, yet at a little distance, was making his way. The old man had to do so cautiously, for as the ground was very soft, he sank at each step he made above his ankles; but Norman, being much lighter, had passed over places which would not bear his weight.
As she got near she heard Norman crying lustily for help, and she began to fear that before old Alec could reach him, he might sink below the soft yielding earth. Just then she heard a shout behind her, and, looking round, she observed little Robby approaching with a long thin pole on his shoulder. He was quickly up with her.
“Don’t go farther, Miss,” he said, “you will be sticking in the bog, too, if you do; we will soon get out the young master.”
Robby quickly joined his grandfather, and by placing the long pole on the top of the hog, Robby was able to make his way over the peat with a rope.
“Here, young master!” he exclaimed, “catch hold of the pole and crawl along it as I do, and you will soon be out of the bog.”
Norman, though at first too much frightened to do anything but shout and struggle, at last comprehended what Robby said, and following his advice, crawled along the pole. He soon got on firmer ground.
Robby then went back and fastened the rope to the carriage, which old Alec was thus able without much difficulty to drag out of the bog.
Fanny soon recovered from her alarm.
“What made you run there?” she asked, as Norman, wet and muddy, came up to her, looking very foolish and very angry too.