the windmill sails were turning black against the blue of heaven--one

look forward to the high ground of Tunstall Forest, and he was

sufficiently directed and held straight on, the water washing to his

horse's knees, as safe as on a highway.

Half-way across, and when he had already sighted the path rising high and

dry upon the farther side, he was aware of a great splashing on his

right, and saw a grey horse, sunk to its belly in the mud, and still

spasmodically struggling. Instantly, as though it had divined the

neighbourhood of help, the poor beast began to neigh most piercingly. It

rolled, meanwhile, a blood-shot eye, insane with terror; and as it

sprawled wallowing in the quag, clouds of stinging insects rose and

buzzed about it in the air.

"Alack!" thought Dick, "can the poor lad have perished? There is his

horse, for certain--a brave grey! Nay, comrade, if thou criest to me so

piteously, I will do all man can to help thee. Shalt not lie there to

drown by inches!"

And he made ready his crossbow, and put a quarrel through the creature's

head.

Dick rode on after this act of rugged mercy, somewhat sobered in spirit,

and looking closely about him for any sign of his less happy predecessor

in the way. "I would I had dared to tell him further," he thought; "for

I fear he has miscarried in the slough."

The Black Arrow