I think it must be Mr Marston missed his way." "What! the young gent at the dreeaning! Hey, bud he'd no call to be out theer." "Where are you ?" shouted Dick, who was ahead now and hurrying along the track that struck off to the big reed-beds and then away over the fen to the sea-bank.
"Here! help!" came faintly.
"Tak' care, Mester Dick!" cried Hickathrift as he and the squire followed.

"Why, he is reight off the path!" "I'll take care!" shouted Dick.

"Come on! All right; it isn't very soft here!" Long usage had made him so familiar with the place that he was able to leave the track in the darkness and pick his way to where, guided by the voice, he found their expected visitor, not, as he expected, up to his middle in the soft peat, but lying prone.
"Why, Mr Marston, you're all right!" cried Dick.

"You wouldn't have hurt if you had come across here." "Help!" came faintly from the prostrate traveller, and Dick caught his arm, but only to elicit a groan.
"Well, he is a coward!" thought Dick.

"Here, father! Hicky!" "Rather soft, my boy!" said the squire.
"Ay, not meant for men o' our weight, mester," said the wheelwright; and they had to flounder in the soft bog a little before they reached the spot where Dick stood holding the young man's cold hand.
"He has fainted with fright, father," said Dick, who felt amused at anyone being so alarmed out there in the darkness.
"Let me tackle him, mester," said the wheelwright.
"No; each take a hand, my lad," said the squire, "and then let's move together for the path as quickly as possible." "Reight!" cried Hickathrift, laconically; and, stooping down, they each took a hand, and half ran half waded through the black boggy mud, till they reached the path from which the young man had strayed.
"Poor chap! he were a bit scar'd to find himself in bog." "Pity he ventured that way," said the squire.
"Here, Mr Marston, you're all right now," said Dick.