"A murrain!" cried Hugh. "He was on the upper island all the

while!" He pulled straight for shore. "Threat me with your bow,

good Dick; threat me with it plain," he added. "I have tried to

save your skins, save you mine!"

The boat ran into a tough thicket of willows with a crash.

Matcham, pale, but steady and alert, at a sign from Dick, ran along

the thwarts and leaped ashore; Dick, taking the horse by the

bridle, sought to follow, but what with the animal's bulk, and what

with the closeness of the thicket, both stuck fast. The horse

neighed and trampled; and the boat, which was swinging in an eddy,

came on and off and pitched with violence.

"It may not be, Hugh; here is no landing," cried Dick; but he still

struggled valiantly with the obstinate thicket and the startled

animal.

A tall man appeared upon the shore of the island, a long-bow in his

hand. Dick saw him for an instant, with the corner of his eye,

bending the bow with a great effort, his face crimson with hurry.

"Who goes?" he shouted. "Hugh, who goes?"

"'Tis Master Shelton, John," replied the ferryman.

"Stand, Dick Shelton!" bawled the man upon the island. "Ye shall

have no hurt, upon the rood! Stand! Back out, Hugh Ferryman."

Dick cried a taunting answer.

"Nay, then, ye shall go afoot," returned the man; and he let drive

an arrow.

The horse, struck by the shaft, lashed out in agony and terror; the

boat capsized, and the next moment all were struggling in the

eddies of the river.

When Dick came up, he was within a yard of the bank; and before his

eyes were clear, his hand had closed on something firm and strong

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