Something came with a whuzz and knocked my hand aside." "Oh!" ejaculated Dick; while Mr Marston sat with his heart beating, since in spite of his efforts to be cool he could not help recalling the evening when he was shot, and he glanced round, expecting to see a flash and hear another report.
Dick seized the pole which he had laid down, and, thrusting it down, forced the punt back from the reeds, and then, as soon as they were in open water, began to toil as hard as he could for a few minutes till the wheelwright relieved him.

Declaring his injury to be a trifle, he in turn worked hard with the pole till, after running into the reeds several times, and more than once striking against patches of bog and rush, they must have got at least a mile from where the shot was fired, by accident or purposely, when the great fellow sat down very suddenly in the bottom of the boat.
As he seated himself he laid the pole across, and then without warning fell back fainting dead away.
A few minutes, however, only elapsed before he sat up again and looked round.
"Bit sick," he said.

"That's all.

Heven't felt like that since one o' squire's horses kicked me and broke my ribs.

Better now." "My poor fellow, your hand must be badly hurt!" said Mr Marston; while Dick looked wildly on, scared by what was taking place.
"Nay, it's nowt much, mester," said the great fellow rather huskily, "and we'd best wait till the mist goes.