Part 43 (1/2)

”Quiet, sir! Here, Cob, lay hold of the lantern. Will you be quiet, dog! Lay hold of him, Cob, and hold him.”

I obeyed in a half stupid way, holding the lantern with one hand, as I went on my knees, putting my arm round Piter's neck to hold him back; and in that way I struggled back from the edge, watching my uncle as I made the light fall upon the head staring wildly at us, a horrible white object just above the black water of the dam.

”Help! Help!” it cried. ”Save me! Oh!”

”Catch hold of the stick. That's right; now your hand. Well done!

What's holding you down? Have you got your foot entangled? That's better: how did you fall in?”

As my uncle rapidly asked these questions he got hold of the man, and dragged him on to the stone edge of the dam, when there was a horrible clanking noise, the rattle of a chain, the man uttered a hideous yell, and as Piter set up a tremendous barking again I turned off the light.

”Here, don't do that,” cried my uncle.

I hardly know what induced me to turn off the light, unless it was a shamefaced feeling on being, as I thought, found out. And yet it did not seem that I was the guilty party. Uncle Bob had said he had taken up the trap, and it was all right. He must have altered his mind and set it again.

”That's better,” said my uncle as I turned on the light once more; and then Piter made such a struggle that I could not hold him. There was a bit of a scuffle, and he was free to rush at the man, upon whom he fixed himself as he lay there howling and dripping with water.

The man yelled again horribly, sprang up with Piter holding on to him; there was the same horrible clanking noise on the stones, and down he fell once more groaning.

”Help! Murder! Take away the dorg. Oh, help!” he cried.

”Good gracious! What is the matter?” cried Uncle Jack, telling me what I knew. ”The man's leg's in a trap.”

He sprang up again, for by main force Uncle Jack had dragged Piter away with his mouth full of trouser leg; but there were only two clanks and a sprawl, for the poor wretch fell headlong again on the stones, praying for mercy.

”Why, his leg's in a great trap, and it's held by a chain,” cried Uncle Jack. ”Here, how came you in this condition?”

”Eh mester, aw doan know. Deed aw doan know,” the fellow groaned.

”Hey, but it's biting my leg off, and I'll be a lame man to the end o'

my days.”

”Why, it's Gentles!” cried Uncle Jack, taking the lantern from me, for I had enough to do to hold the dog.

”Tek off the thing; tek off the thing,” groaned the man. ”It's a-cootin' my leg i' two, I tell'ee.”

”Hold your noise, and don't howl like that,” cried Uncle Jack angrily, for he seemed to understand now that the man must have climbed over into the yard and been caught, though he was all the more surprised, for quiet smooth-faced Gentles was the last man anyone would have suspected.

”But I tell'ee its tekkin off my leg,” groaned the man, and he made another trial to escape, but was checked by the peg driven tightly into the ground between the stones, and he fell again, hurting himself horribly.

”I shall be a dead man--murdered in a minute,” he groaned. ”Help! Oh, my poor missus and the bairns! Tek off that thing, and keep away yon dorg.”

”Look here,” said Uncle Jack, making the light play on the poor wretch's miserable face. ”How came you here?”

”Your dorg flew at me, mester, and drove me in t'watter.”

”Yes, exactly; but how came you in the yard?”

”I d'know, mester, I d'know.”

”I suppose not,” said Uncle Jack.