The wind kept increasing in violence and then dying out, as if it came in huge waves which swept over them and had a great interval between, while as the rush and roar of the gusts passed there came the deep hoarse murmur of the distant sea.
"Dick," said the squire suddenly, "you are so young that you can hardly feel with me, but I want someone to talk to now, and I may as well tell you that I am going to risk a great deal of money over the draining of the fen." "Are you, father ?" "Yes, my lad, and I have been feeling a natural shrinking from the risk.
To-night sweeps all that away, for in spite of having lived here so many years as I have, I never before felt how needful it all was." "Do you think so, father ?" "Indeed I do, my lad, for anything more risky than our walk to-night I hardly know.

What's that ?" The squire stopped short and grasped his son's arm, as, after a furious gust of wind, the distant murmur of the sea seemed to have been overborne by something different--a confused lapping, trickling, and rushing noise that seemed to come from all parts at once.
"I don't know, father," said Dick, who was slightly startled by his father's manner.

"Shall we go on ?" "Yes," said the squire hoarsely.

"Let's get home quick." They started on again, walking fast, but at the end of a minute Dick uttered a cry.
"We're off the road, father.

Water!" As he spoke he was ankle-deep, and in taking a step to catch his son's arm, Squire Winthorpe felt the water splash up around him.
"Can you see the lights at the Priory, Dick ?" he said sharply.
"No, father." "We can't be off the path," said the squire.